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saerins · 6 months

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°୨୧ INEVICABLY, UNDENIABLY

+ gojo satoru x f!reader | wc 3.3k | content: fluff, modern au, friends to roommates to lovers, timeskip thing; from high school -> adulthood, alcohol, implied sex, children, marriage, gojo is mostly clingy and annoying and we love him for it, the years and age correspond to his actual birthdate, take this as my birthday fic for him <3

summary: despite seemingly having it all, gojo satoru’s goal has always been the same all these years you’ve known him—all he wants in life is you, and only you. during his birthday this year, gojo counts his blessings.

2006; seventeen.

the day you agreed to be satoru’s partner in homeroom class is the day you signed away your sanity. not because satoru’s hard to get along with or that he’s rude or slacks off, but because it’s hard not to fall for a boy with such pretty eyes and even prettier lips who likes to say the most beautiful things.

getting to know satoru is like taking a deep in the clearest, coldest ocean after an entire lifetime of being dipped in molten lava. he’s annoying, refreshing and eye-opening all in one.

satoru shows promise in the first lesson, doing fairly well at cooking and sowing, although afterwards he just falls off because you end up having to teach him how to properly use alcohol in his cooking so he doesn’t burn himself or that you’d end up patching his fingers up since he accidentally pokes himself a lot more than the average human would.

still, it’s not his fault he isn’t naturally talented in the home economics department. he is in sports, you find out, after a few months of being in the same class as him.

“hey, y/n.” he’s leaning back on his chair, depending on its hind two legs for support. it’s become his habit during class to bother you whenever the teachers aren’t in.

you were assigned the seat diagonally behind him, and it’s become a habit for you to ignore him—mostly because most of the time, it’s nonsense that falls out of those lips, especially after you’d gotten close. it’s his sign of affection, you realise.

“hey y/n, i’m being serious this time, i need to talk to you,” satoru whines, pouting and sighing in that over dramatic way that only he can.

that’s also not the first time he’s tricked you into acknowledging him so all you do is look at him, a smile appearing that you failed to suppress, and bring a finger to your lips, signalling for him to hush.

unperturbed, satoru smirks and gets to scribbling on a piece of paper, folding it (annoyingly and quickly) into a swan before handing it to you. he winks at you, and you’re immediately driven not to give him satisfaction by reading it. instead, you bow slightly and stuff it in your pencil case, making satoru pout again and giving yourself the sweet taste of victory.

the rest of your sophomore year in high school, you find yourself growing closer to satoru, an unfamiliar feeling growing inside of you. you find that you like knowing what makes him tick, and even the way he says your name, or even watching him ace every kind of sport and then having him blow a teasing kiss to you after each win.

“y/n, i’m so jealous of you, how’d you manage to get gojo satoru of all people?” one of your classmates whine, swooning endlessly over him.

you only laugh it off, deigning to think too much of it.

it’s weird; he’s most of the schoolgirls’ crushes, but you’ve never considered him to be yours. maybe it’s just a fleeting feeling that will go away with the test of time.

yeah, that should be all that is.

2007; eighteen.

“why not? we’re practically going to the same college.”

with time, you thought that maybe satoru would become a little more sane. like how growing into adults, you slowly shed the ridiculous dreams you had as a child. but he’s not, if not—he’s even more insane.

“we haven’t got the results yet, satoru.”

“i’m pretty sure we’ll get in though.”

“and what’s your basis for that?”

“i’m never wrong about these.”

as always, satoru lives in his own little bubble and you can’t help but to sigh. in his head, both of you will get into that same college you applied for and he has it all planned out: “we get into college, sign up for whatever classes, and then rent an apartment together—genius right?”

that was satoru just moments ago, elbows leaned over the grocery cart as he grins at you, beaming like a dog waiting for their owner’s approval. now he’s still doing the same, except you’ve flicked him on the forehead before turning your attention to the aisles because apparently, he says he hates the food at home and would rather have what you’re cooking.

he’s made it his life mission to invade your meals over the weekend, squeezing himself into your family, bonding with your sibling and your parents and only then did you realise what you forgot in the first place: satoru is one of the most charming people to ever walk the earth. your siblings constantly ask about the next time he’s coming over, and your parents are just waiting for you to announce that he’s your boyfriend—which he’s not, but he sure likes to make it seem that way.

another thing you notice about satoru thanks to your now-weekly grocery runs: he likes to wander around way too much, and complains afterwards when he finds you after losing you.

“y/n!”

it’s like routine by now; the way satoru rushes over to you, putting his arm around your shoulder and sticking his cheek against yours, telling you how he almost died because he thought he lost you—like the drama queen he is. by now, all you can offer him is a ruffle of his hair before you carry on like normal, as though your heart isn’t beating right out of your chest from that simple proximity.

because satoru, despite his generally icy look, is always warm; his body heat, his cheeks, the way he looks into your eyes all the time, even his fingertips when they brush against you.

you think he’s especially warm when he falls asleep beside you after watching a late night movie, his head nuzzled in your neck, hands somehow rested over your own. your favourite thing about the friendship, though, try as you might to deny it, is how satoru’s hands always find yours when he walks you home, fingers lacing around your own as if it’s second nature.

ever since then, these routines have become a staple, and perhaps even does your growing feelings. the inexplicable one.

2008; nineteen.

satoru was right.

both of you did get into the same university, and the same course, with different minors so at least there’s some differences. so of course, satoru did not let the shared apartment idea go. though, of course, thanks to your initial hesitance on the matter, the only available apartment is a 4-bedroom, entirely too big and hence you’d convinced satoru to just rent the other bedrooms out for extra change.

and no, satoru does not need extra change because his family’s loaded (which you realised you didn’t even know before this) but at least this would allow you to not dwell on whatever you’re feeling too much. university is going to be stressful enough without the added consideration of your possible feelings towards satoru.

then enters geto suguru—your new roommate who, thankfully, steals enough of satoru’s attention so you have some breathing room. turns out, they’re like two peas in a pod. but while you and satoru major in business, suguru majors in psych. so that still means satoru’s around just you most of the time.

some routines change; like how movie nights are shared amongst the three of you in the living room instead of just you and satoru in your room. or how during grocery runs satoru still runs up to you when he finds you again except this time, an exasperated suguru is beside you sighing at him, always a “how do you stand this guy?” rolling off his tongue. the most surprising one for you might be how meals include suguru now and satoru’s the one who does the cooking now, and funnily enough, he’s absolutely great at it. no ounce of hesitation as he flips the pancakes, or stirs the fried rice—no whining about how it’s too hard because he’ll get burns on his fingertips and has to ask you to tend to his wounds.

but some change in a different way. they leave no room for someone else, like how satoru always finds your hands to hold on to, keeping you within a reach too close to pass as just friends but both of you refusing to label it anything else anyways. it leaves no room for other people to butt in and whisk either of you away.

and for now, at least, both of you are okay with just that.

2009; twenty.

participating in different activities and clubs inevitably mean that you and satoru wouldn’t be attached at the hip most of the time. and of course, while that leads to satoru becoming even clingier when you’re both home (not that you’re complaining when it’s nice to feel wanted from the very guy you’re completely not having a crush on), both of you are in separate social circles.

satoru occasionally has his friends over, the ones you don’t really know that well. the one where you can only remember names like haibara because he’s extra friendly and yuki because she’s one of the prettiest people you’d ever seen and nori because she’s a mix of the two. you’re nice, and cordial to all of them, although you can’t really say the same for satoru.

occasionally you and suguru invite your friends over, because nicely enough, you both have the same interests. it’s mostly shoko and nanami, a med student and law student respectively, but both of which satoru loves to annoy to no end. lucky for you, shoko is strangely naturally tolerant of his antics and nanami shrugs it off as white noise.

“y/n, surely you’d rather spend time with me rather than that blondie?” satoru always asks, pouting as he looks at you over his shoulder during breakfast—a constant whenever you have plans that involve nanami.

it’s kind of cute.

“mmm, that’s a secret,” you’d always tell him, knowing that satoru’s pouts won’t last all day anyway. it’ll relegate to an excited grin whenever you’re back after that.

you’d never really had to face your feelings, then, until all of you gather one night, before the holidays officially start. you should’ve known that something would be different this time, especially when there’s alcohol involved. naturally, in the circle you sit in, satoru asks people to scoot over, purposely sitting beside you, as close as he can, close enough that your arms and knees practically brush.

it’s just for a simple game of truth or dare, and it’s innocent enough until someone asks nanami and he says truth, and his truth is that out of everyone he knows, he’d most likely date you. beside you, while everyone else is whooping at the declaration, satoru clicks his tongue in annoyance, though he says nothing about it. and you’re not really emphatic about it until someone dares nori to kiss the guy she wants to date the most and she kisses satoru, deep and slow, in front of you, haibara letting slip that she’s had a crush on satoru for a while now.

satoru’s five shots in and tipsy and he was imagining that was you and maybe that’s why it lasted for five seconds before he pulls away.

and when it comes to satoru?

as though noticing his dilemma, suguru gives an amused smile as he states his dare, “kiss the girl you most wanna marry.”

he doesn’t waste a single second in pulling you close and kissing you, his alcohol-tainted lips pressing against yours, daring tongue teasingly prying open your lips, chuckling as he feels you kiss him back.

“not most,” satoru corrects right as the both of you pull away, his forehead still pressed against yours and both of your half-lidded pair of eyes still staring at each other.

“what?” you’re almost breathless, forgetting that everyone else is watching.

“the only girl i wanna marry.” and you think he’s never looked more handsome, genuine smile plastered on his face and pretty blue eyes threatening to pull you in.

while everyone moves on, satoru doesn’t—he keeps you there with him, telling you for the first time in four years since he’s known you, “i love you.”

the next week, after you get home for the holidays, the first time being away from satoru in a while, you manage to find your old pencil case, the folded paper swan satoru folded for you all those years ago still inside, somehow forgotten.

curious, you finally open it, finding his message enclosed inside, bringing a smile to your face.

i’m gonna marry you one day.

2010; twenty-one.

dating satoru is like finding a new hobby that you’re effortlessly good at.

despite living under the same roof, instead of finding out the ugly, you find the good in each other. even with suguru in the mix, you all live harmoniously like you have been since the start. except now, satoru likes to sleep in your room, both of you fooling around and occasionally forcing suguru to tell you to pipe down.

satoru is still full of surprises, sometimes pulling up with his car as though both of you don’t sleep under the same roof, telling you that he planned a date and to dress nice. he buys you flowers even if you’re not particularly fancy of them and surprises you by buying things that simply reminded him of you.

dating satoru is like finding out that the right person for you will always think of you and your feelings, no matter the circumstance. the way he makes sure to tell you if he has to hang around nori, or the way he asks if you need anything when he passes by the grocery store alone, or going so far as to memorise your cycle so he knows exactly what to show up back home with.

by the time it’s your one-year anniversary and his birthday comes and you ask him what he wants, all he can answer is “you” and for the first time, you can tell he isn’t trying to be annoying or cheeky or flirty—satoru is surprisingly simple and his answer always has been and somehow always will be just you.

2013; twenty-four.

you still remember the day satoru got down on one knee, his handsome smile even more radiant under the golden hour glow, those still-beautiful blue eyes gleaming even from beneath his bangs.

just an intimate proposal with your closest friends, both shoko and suguru helping to distract you in order to create a successful surprise, while nanami and haibara helped with the decorations and photography.

thanks to them, you’re laughing now, at your wedding reception, looking at all the ways you nearly found them out that day, exactly one year ago, in the form of pictures. and thanks to the best man’s toast, you find out that suguru’s always known about satoru’s feelings, and just how deep his emotions for you ran.

“i won’t forget how much he whined about y/n getting close to nanami. that was probably the one time his whining got so out of control that i wanted to stuff a pillow over his face,” suguru divulges, garnering laughs around the hall, including from you, as your new husband pouts and squeezes your hand.

thanks to that, nanami finds the need to disclose during his speech, “i have never intended to date nor had such thoughts about y/n. my truth during that game of truth or dare was simply the result of a process of elimination—” and haibara cuts him off to give a more fitting speech, fits of laughter all across the room.

that day, you steal glances at satoru, wondering how you got so lucky to be with someone who loves you so much and continuously proves so with every passing day.

“satoru?” you call to him softly that night, as you both find yourselves completely bare in the bedroom of your new apartment, one to yourselves.

his piercing blue eyes flick up to meet yours, relishing how it feels like inside of you, every time as though it’s the first. “yeah?” it’s breathy, because he’s about to lose himself.

“i love you, satoru, and only you, forever and ever,” you tell him, finally knowing that in this life, it will always be gojo satoru for you, and that it’s the same for him too.

he only chuckles, pulling you close, “forever me and you, baby, only us.”

2023; present day.

“wow, more than ten years, i think i need to give you a trophy for that, y/n.”

satoru groans, rolling his eyes. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

beside him, suguru laughs at shoko’s comment. this time, the six of you find yourselves at a round table in a seafood restaurant during satoru’s birthday, talking about how it’s you and satoru’s tenth year together too.

“i’m not too much, am i?” satoru teasingly asks you, although you only shrug in amusement before drinking your glass of water as an excuse not to answer.

you’ve always been like that, but it’s part of what satoru likes about you. scratch that, he’s loved every part of you since he met you. it’s like it was meant to be; or so he likes to think. there’s an undeniable pull that always lulls him back to you. to satoru, there’s never been question that you’re the only one for him, maybe that’s why it’s so clear-cut.

“you’re just so head over heels for me, huh?” you ask him, a smug grin on your face, the conversational context something he’s missing since he’s been zoning out in his thoughts.

since the first time he saw you, he’s been drawn to you every second of every day. maybe that’s why he did all those stupid stuff like pretending not to be able to cook and ‘accidentally’ burning himself to get you to tend to him, or purposely pricking himself with the needle and asking you to put a plaster over it just to feel you close. even those times at the supermarket when he purposely loses you so he can find you again and see your helpless smile and feel the way you rub his head affectionately afterwards.

maybe it’s stupid too, how he had to silently admit he knows how to cook all too well because he didn’t want suguru to taste your cooking when he first moved in. it was something satoru felt he wanted to himself, something he wanted to keep between him and his future wife. or how a wordless stare between him and suguru during that game of truth or dare was all suguru needed to know that satoru wanted to make you his at that very second, afraid that kiss between him and nori would make you hesitant.

he shouldn’t have underestimated you though, because you know him better than most people do. there were never any pointless arguments or unrecoverable friction.

as they sing happy birthday annoyingly loud like best friends do, chanting for him to make a wish—his hands find yours again as they always did, he can honestly say that there’s no other way he’d rather live his life. you’re made for him and he has you and the little mini yous at home so really, there’s nothing that he has to wish for.

except, maybe, one thing, if he could be selfish.

in this life, and every other life, he’ll want to be with you and only you, forever.

#jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #jjk fluff #gojo satoru fluff #gojo fluff #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #૪ aeri’s fics !

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ashwhowrites · 19 days

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Wrong story

Heavily inspired by the film Miller's Girl. If you haven't seen it, I highly recommend it because Jenna Ortega is excellent 👌🏻

Modern AU

⚠️smut, smut and more smut

Summary - Y/N has a crush on her teacher, filled with inappropriate thoughts she needs a release. So she writes it out...and accidentally sends it to him.

I hope you guys enjoy this and love it! 🫶🏻

Y/N knew it was a horrible idea to have a crush on her English teacher, but she couldn't help it. The second she walked into that class and saw him standing there in dress pants and a button-up, she was in trouble.

The first week, she did not learn a thing. She couldn't think straight when he'd look over at her. His dark eyes, his long hair that rested perfectly on his shoulders, and the tattoos that peaked through his rolled-up sleeves. She wondered if he had tattoos elsewhere, and how much of his skin was inked. Did he have naked skin that she could mark herself?

She also knew it was inappropriate to think about him the way she did. She spent so many nights in her dorm room alone, dreaming of being fucked on his desk. She wanted his hands all over her, his teeth on her skin and his tongue tasting her.

Now, she had more control over her thoughts and could pay attention in his class. Before she knew it, her writing and understanding skills blew him away. He talked to her about her work, always praising, and challenging her.

"Another great assignment," He said as he placed her paper in front of her. She clenched her thighs as he walked past, his scent lingering behind.

"Thank you, Mr. Munson."

He turned around and gave her a small wink, and she felt like she melted into a puddle.

"You are all dismissed, have a good weekend."

"He was so checking you out," Tate teased as she and Y/N left the classroom.

"Will you shut up! He was not," Y/N scoffed.

"Another great assignment, wish you used those fingers for more than just typing," Tate said in a seductive voice, deepening her voice to sound like Eddie.

"Oh stop," Y/N laughed as she shoved Tate. "I wish, but he probably has a girlfriend, someone his age. And not someone he'd lose a job for dating."

"Believe what you want, but I've got two eyes and I watched as he landed on your ass yesterday when you wore that plaid skirt. I bet he was having little schoolgirl fantasies." Tate gasped with a huge smile.

"Do you think of anything other than sex, you perv?" Y/N teased as they walked out of the building.

~~~

Y/N couldn't lie, she thought about what Tate said all weekend. Was he checking her out? Or was Tate poking at her crush?

Y/N folded her laundry and her hands touched the red and black plaid skirt. She felt a smile stretch across her face as she thought back to Tate.

Maybe she should see for herself?

Y/N felt a rush of confidence as she walked into Eddie's class. Her skirt flowed against her thighs and her black long-sleeved body suit hugged her body.

She'd deny it but she spent extra hours getting ready in the morning.

"You little slut," Tate snickered

"What?" Y/N asked, acting dumb as she stood in front of Tate's table.

"The skirt, the tight bodysuit. Someone is putting on a show."

"I just...wanted to find out for myself." Y/N shrugged, it wasn't a big deal.

"Ms. Y/L/N, mind taking a seat?"

Y/N turned around to see Mr. Munson waiting for her. She blushed and quickly ran to her seat, a quiet apology on her tongue.

"After you finish your book for the independent reading, I want you to write a story written in the same way as the author."

Y/N felt the color drain from her face. She didn't know the book she picked would matter. And there was no way she could write a story and face him after he read it.

The second class was over she walked up to his desk. Tate watched with delight as she stayed in the back.

"Um, Mr. Munson," she said shyly.

Eddie looked up and smiled. She felt her heart race as his full attention was on her. His eyes looked into hers.

"I wasn't aware the book we chose would matter, and the book I've been reading is a tad mature." Y/N blushed.

"That's alright. You are an incredible writer and I don't think you'll have any difficulties." Eddie explained

"That's not the issue. The book is um," she leaned down so Tate couldn't hear. Eddie noticeably shifted as her face got closer to his. His eyes were quick to look down at her chest before snapping back up. "It's smut." She clenched her eyes shut in embarrassment.

Eddie felt his face heat up as he coughed, "Oh! Um you...uh...yeah. Different book then?" he stuttered out.

"Thank you, Mr. Munson," she said before she rushed out of the room. Eddie couldn't help but look as she walked away. He bit his lip as his eyes traveled down to her exposed legs, then up to the roundness of her ass and the way her hips moved.

He jumped out of his daydream when Tate coughed. She sent him a little knowing smirk then went out after Y/N.

~~~

Y/N finished a different book and stared at the blank paper on her computer. The assignment was due tomorrow and she had gotten nowhere in the past week.

She couldn't focus, all she could think about was the dirty words in her other book. She was guilty of imagining the male lead as Eddie, so now she was distracted by how sexually frustrated she was.

She opened a new tab and let her imagination go wild. All the dirty images flowed into words as she typed. She clenched her thighs as she wrote about him. She needed it out of her system so she could focus on her real paper.

Finally, at midnight she finished her real paper. Her eyes burned and her fingers were sore but she finished the assignment. She yawned as she sent the paper to his email. Once she heard it send, she shut down her computer and headed to bed.

~~~

It was Sunday morning and Eddie dedicated the day to reading through all the papers he had to grade.

He looked through his email as he rested in bed, still in his boxers and naked chest. His laptop rested on his stomach as he scrolled until he found the one he was searching for.

He smiled once he found Y/N's name. He knew he wasn't supposed to have favorites, but she was so creative and smart. He was her top student. He loved watching her work and seeing the passion she had. It was something they had in common.

He opened her story and began to read it.

"Her skin was burning with desire as his skillful hands slithered up her thighs. She panted as he tugged her skirt down to her ankles, the air hit her bare cunt as she shivered. Her nipples hardened as he looked at her, his deep brown watched her expression as he slipped a finger inside of her. He felt his own desire crashing over his body like a wave. She put her hands behind her, her palms flat on his desk as she threw her head back. With her back arched, her hard nipples teased right in his face. He couldn't help but lean forward, wrapping his warm lips around her left nipple, swirling his tongue around the flesh. Another finger slipped inside of her, then another.

He was three fingers deep in her soaked cunt as his teeth scraped against her nipple. He removed himself with a pop before he moved to her neglected one. Just like the left, he wrapped his lips around her right nipple. His tongue played with her as his fingers picked up their pace. "

Eddie swallowed as he felt himself getting warm. He felt like he should have stopped reading. They discussed doing a different book, did she change her mind? He felt dirty for imagining himself in the fantasy, and even worse that he imagined it was her cunt around his fingers and her nipples in his mouth.

He scratched at the itchiness in his facial hair as he debated on reading further. He also wasn't sure if he'd be allowed to grade this.

He skimmed past a few paragraphs, maybe it was a big opener or something.

"His hard cock pulsed as she bent over his desk. His right hand worked down his body, he grasped his cock in a tight grip as he slowly jerked himself as he looked at her.

"Spread," his demanding voice cut through the thick air. She obeyed, her breasts against the wood as she bent fully over. She spread her legs apart, she waited for his next move with anticipation. He growled as he watched her cunt spread open, he licked his lips as he watched her wetness start to drip down her thigh. She shivered as she felt it.

"Touch me, please," she pathetically whimpered. He smirked at the sound of her wrecked voice. She panted as she heard his heavy footsteps move towards her. His left hand trailed up her spine, up over her shoulder, then harshly gripped around her throat. She choked as he cut off the air to her lungs. His hot breath fanned against her ear as he bit and tugged on her earring.

"I'll touch you when I want to touch you," his voice was low and deep. And his grip on her neck tightened. She felt her body growing weak as he controlled how much air she'd receive. He waited a few seconds before he released her. She gasped as she choked for air, her head feeling light. But she loved every second of it. Every second of being nothing but a body for him to touch, a body for him to fuck, a body for him to torture. He removed his hand from his cock, the building orgasm set aside as he focused on her ass in the air.

His right hand came down to slam down on her ass. The skin burned and flamed as he smacked it over and over. She gripped the desk until her fingers went white, her lip bleeding from how hard she bit her lip to stay quiet. The sound of his skin slapping her flesh echoed throughout the empty classroom. He growled as her skin changed colors and how his handprint burned into her."

Eddie looked around his room, almost scared that he was going to be caught. He felt his cock pulsing in his boxers and he fought to ignore it.

"Finally his thick and hard cock slid inside of her. Her soaked cunt happily stretched open for him. Her legs shook as he fucked her hard. The desk squeaked under their bodies, his hands bruised into her hips. She clawed at the wood as he took no mercy on her. He was fucking her so hard that her body jolted forward with every thrust. She wanted to turn her head to see him, but when she tried his hand pushed her head against the desk.

"This is what you wanted, isn't it? Wearing those tiny skirts to my class with that sweet cunt so easy for me to see. Do you think I don't notice you spreading open your whore legs when I'm lecturing? I can't imagine what you think when you fuck this pathetic cunt, but I know you think of me. But no toys are as big as me, huh?" He mocked. She whimpered at his words, knowing he was right. "And no toys are fucking you as good as me."

"Fuck, Mr. Munson, you fuck me so fucking good." She moaned"

Eddie stared at the screen in shock. Did he read his own name? Was she writing this as...herself? Eddie shivered at the thought, the movement caused his cock to move, and his tip hit something cold and wet. Eddie set his laptop next to him as he threw off the blankets.

He felt embarrassed when he looked down, a huge wet spot of pre-cum stained through his boxers. The pulsing was too hard to ignore, so he reached down to palm himself softly. Just a little touch to ease the ache. The simple touch caused him to moan loudly. He wanted to pull his hand away before he got too caught up but his hand at its own mind.

He slipped his hand inside his boxers, slowly jerking himself as he threw his head back. He sighed at the relief as his cock pulsed in his hand. His eyes looked over to his laptop, and his free hand reached over to scroll.

"He pushed himself fully inside of her, forcing her to feel just how big he was. He sighed in delight as she clamped around him. Like her cunt didn't want him to go anywhere. She was tight and wet, a perfect mixture to make his head spin.

"Feels like you were meant for me," he moaned. She began to move her hips back to match his rhythm. His hands were tight on her hips as the sound of their skin smacking filled their ears. She was moaning and whining, every sound drove him closer to his release."

Eddie moaned as he jerked himself faster. The images flashed through his head as he read. His head was thrown back in pleasure as he pictured her soft body bent over his desk. He was guilty of thinking about it before. Guilty of thinking about her hands and lips wrapped around his cock as he fucked her throat in between classes.

"She came with a loud scream of his name, her body limp against the desk as he fucked her through it. His hands were gentle as he traced up and down her spine, but his cock still drilled inside of her. She shook in sensitivity as he chased his orgasm.

"Cum for me, Mr. Munson," she whimpered, "fill my slutty cunt with your cum. Make me yours."

Eddie felt his eyes roll in the back of his head as he panted. His hand jerked himself faster, the feeling of bliss in his stomach. He read the last sentence over and over until his body thrashed as he came. His sticky cum painted his hand and stomach as he jerked himself empty. He imagined filling her cunt, and stuffing her full. The idea of his cum dripping down her thighs made him shiver.

He pulled his hand away with a hiss when he felt himself grow sensitive.

He took a few minutes to collect himself. Then the guilt rushed in. He slammed his laptop shut with his clean hand. He just jerked himself off to a student's smut. What the hell was wrong with him?

He got out of bed, legs a little shaky as he moved to his bathroom. He washed his hands and cleaned off his stomach. He couldn't look at himself in the mirror without disgust. He was an adult, he should have closed it the second he saw it was a sex story.

~~~

Eddie sat at his desk, his leg shook with anxiety as he waited for his class to come in.

His eyes looked up and caught hers. She offered a small smile as she walked in. He looked away and pretended to be busy with his desk work.

She tried to ignore the blow she felt as he ignored her. Maybe it was a hard morning for him. She walked over to Tate's table as they talked. Eddie noticed she wore a different skirt with a tighter-fitting top. He felt displeased with himself as he felt his cock get a little hard. He couldn't look at her without thinking of her words. And the disgusting thing he did while reading it.

"Y/N, please don't make me ask you to take your seat every day."

His tone was sharp and annoyed. Even Tate looked at him confused as Y/N blushed in embarrassment again.

"Sorry," she rushed out as she raced to her seat

"Don't say it, show me." He snapped

She shrunk in her seat, her eyes looked to Tate to see if they were thinking the same thing.

The whole class period he never once looked her way. Which was odd because he always looked over at her. Even when she raised her hand to answer all his questions, as she always did since she was the only one who listened to his lectures. He just ignored her and waited until someone else answered, even if it took minutes.

She couldn't help but feel neglected. It wasn't a big deal, but it made her feel like shit.

She sighed in relief as the class was dismissed. Tate walked over to her as the two began to walk out.

"Ms. Y/L/N? Can you stay back a second?" His voice called out

Y/N gulped and looked nervously at Tate. She sent a small smile and closed the door behind her. Leaving Eddie and Y/N alone in an empty classroom.

"Yes, Mr. Munson?" she asked, her voice shaking with nerves as she looked down at him.

He stood up and grabbed a stack of stapled papers from his desk. He looked into her eyes as he handed it over.

"Can you just read the first paragraph, please? To yourself is fine."

She took the paper, confused. But she did as he asked. The color drained from her face as she read the first few words. She sent in the wrong paper.

"I'm so-" she went to apologize but Eddie cut her off.

"This behavior is highly inappropriate. We discussed you would change your book. Not only is it against the school's rules, it is not appropriate to write about a teacher in that way. If you have a crush, write in a diary, not my assignment. And I'll need a new paper if you want to pass this class" His voice had no emotion as he scolded her. She wanted to shrink until he couldn't see her anymore. She was so embarrassed.

"I understand," she whispered with her head down, she would never be able to look him in the face again.

She kept the papers as she began to walk towards the door.

"Oh and Y/N?"

She turned around, her eyes on the floor.

"Even if this school doesn't have a dress code, I think you should dress more appropriately."

Any sort of confidence she ever had vanished with his words. She didn't say anything, she turned around and raced out the door.

Hot tears streaming down her face.

"What happened?" Tate asked as she held the crying girl in her arms.

"I sent in the wrong paper and now he knows I have this giant crush on him. You were wrong! He doesn't like me at all. And he wasn't checking me out, he was judging me for wearing slutty clothes!"

"He said that to you?" Tate gasped

"Not in those words, but he said if I had a crush I need to write it in my diary and not his assignments. Then he said I need to wear appropriate clothes in his class." Y/N cried as she hugged her best friend tighter.

"What a dick! He has no right to talk to you that way." Tate growled.

"Let's just get out of here," Y/N sighed as she let Tate go.

~~~

Y/N dreaded going to class the next day. She printed out the correct paper this time. Her head was low as she walked silently into the class, she dropped the paper on his desk. She didn't bother to look at him, no idea if he looked at her or not.

But of course, he looked. Her perfume alerted him that she was there before any movement did. He watched as the new papers landed on his desk and she walked silently to her seat. He eyed her outfit, completely different from anything she ever wore.

She was covered in clothes from head to toe. A big hoodie on her body with baggy sweatpants. He felt guilty seeing her body deflate in her seat. He knew he was wrong to ever say anything about what she wore but he couldn't handle seeing her in outfits he wanted to tear off. It didn't work, even in a hoodie and sweatpants he still imagined what was underneath.

The class seemed to go on for hours for both of them. She never looked up from her desk.

"Does anyone know the answer?" He asked out loud, his eyes already moving to her frame. He was met with silence.

"Do you happen to know, Y/N?"

She shrunk as he said her name, his and the whole class's eyes on her as she looked up.

"No, sorry" she whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear. It pained him to see her high head so low. She shined with confidence and he took it away for his own selfish reasons.

"Her hand wasn't raised, Sir," Tate growled. She wasn't sure what Eddie's problem was but she knew it wasn't because he disliked that paper.

"My apologies," Eddie said with a tight smile. He answered for the class as he continued his lecture.

He dismissed the class a few minutes early. Barely able to keep himself together. He watched as Tate wrapped her arm around Y/N's shoulder as they walked out.

Eddie spent the night grading Y/N's new paper. He wasn't surprised by the perfect story she told. He was glad he didn't destroy her writing ability like he did with everything else.

The next morning he placed the paper on her desk. The compliment left his lips as a routine.

"Excellent work,"

She gave a small hum as she didn't look up. No thank you or smile sent his way. He ignored the pit in his stomach as he moved on with the class.

"The next assignment will be with partners, so please find someone you are comfortable to work with."

Eddie gave the class time to find someone as he grabbed the rubric for the assignment. He figured he'd see Tate sitting up front next to Y/N when he looked up, but he felt a lump in his throat when he saw Alex sitting there.

Alex was a good student, he was dedicated and smart. Since when did he know her?

Eddie passed out the rubric, he tried not to eavesdrop on the conversations happening around him.

"We'll probably have to work outside of class, so maybe I can get your number and address?"

Eddie kept the growl in his throat as he walked past Alex and Y/N. He hated the way she smiled and nodded.

It was dumb but Eddie acted out of jealousy.

"You'll get weeks and weeks of in-class work time so don't worry about working out of school hours." A huge lie, he jeopardized his lesson plans and would deal with the consequences later.

"Bummer, I was kinda using that as an excuse to ask you out," Alex said, Eddie watched as she blushed and giggled into her hand.

He shouldn't be jealous. He knew that. He's the reason they can't even look at each other. He acted childish and was cold. He rejected her and embarrassed her, and fuck did he regret it. He regretted making the adult decision, he wished he caved. He wished he smashed his lips against hers and turned that story into reality.

"Maybe you don't need an excuse?" She shrugged with a smile. Alex was cute and he always caught her eye. Not the way Eddie did, but it was clear that would never happen. It was selfish, but maybe Alex could make her feel better about herself again.

Eddie gulped as she wrote down her number and passed it over.

~~~

Shortly after that, Alex and Y/N spent more time sitting next to each other in Eddie's class. He watched the class work together, his eyes kept shifting towards her. It had been a long week of no words shared between them. She still covered her body and kept her head down.

All she focused on was Alex. She kept her eyes on him and never once shifted to Eddie. But his eyes were always on her.

They kept laughing and she smacked his arms. He'd smile at her reaction and push to make her laugh harder.

"Please stay focused," Eddie demanded from his desk. His annoyed tone made Y/N finally look up. He stared at her as she didn't look away. He didn't move a muscle, he hoped if he stayed still she wouldn't look away.

"Sorry, we'll go back to the project," Alex said, Eddie growled as he spoke. Y/N snapped out of her daydream and smiled at Alex as they went back to their assignment.

"This Friday I'm throwing a party, and I would love to see you there. Maybe as my date?" Alex asked, he sent a warm smile her way as he held her hand.

She felt her heart race and smiled.

"I would love to."

Friday arrived faster than Eddie wanted. He knew he wasn't supposed to be upset that she was going on a date. He should have been happy for her, but all he felt was jealousy.

"Wow, wow and wow."

Eddie looked up as he heard Alex's voice. He looked in the direction of Alex's eyesight and felt his breath being kicked out of his lungs.

Y/N walked in with a huge smile, and a flowy black dress framed her body. She wore light makeup that made her face light up. Her confidence was back.

"You like? I was thinking of this for our date," Y/N said as she wrapped her arms around Alex's neck.

Eddie rolled his eyes as the couple leaned in for a kiss.

"Take your seats," Eddie demanded, and the couple pulled away.

"Sorry, Mr. Munson," she said, smiling as she took her seat and dragged Alex to sit next to her.

Eddie ignored the shiver her voice sent through his body. Hearing his name leave her lips sent Eddie into a spiral.

During the class, Eddie focused on not blowing up. His hands were in a tight fist, and his fingers were white. He clenched his jaw as Alex's hand rested on her bare knee.

He watched as Alex whispered in her ear. Eddie didn't what he said, but the way Y/N's eyes went huge and her mouth opened with a gasp, made him guess a few things. He watched as her thighs clenched together and Alex squeezed her knee before it traveled up her thigh. His hand went higher and higher until it disappeared underneath her dress.

The class was dismissed and Eddie couldn't hold it in anymore.

"Y/N, can I speak to you?"

Y/N and Alex stopped at the door

"Um, yeah," she said confused, Alex pecked her cheek goodbye as he walked out.

"Can you shut the door?"

Y/N was confused but closed the door, and then walked over to his desk.

"How can I help you?" she asked

"I'd appreciate it if you and your boyfriend kept your focus on the project and not each other," Eddie said he stood tall as he placed his hands on his desk and leaned forward.

"The project is finished, Mr. Munson. And we still have a few days before we turn it in. I don't think we are doing anything wrong." she argued. She was tired of him telling her what to do with her life.

"Him feeling you up underneath a table isn't doing anything wrong?" He argued, his eyes dark as he glared over at her. He leaned forward, even more, his face close to hers.

She tried to ignore the heat she felt between her thighs as he leaned over her with his tight shirt bulging out his arms. His tie dangled in between them as she looked up at him.

"And whispering in your ear? I'm sure I can think of a few things he had to say." Eddie said as he rolled his eyes

Y/N couldn't help but feel an exciting feeling bubble in her stomach, was he...jealous?

"What do you think he said?" she asked, as she leaned forward. Her voice was low as she looked into his eyes. She could see the lust in his eyes as he licked his lips.

"Something along the lines of wanting to be under your dress, between your legs, and make you scream his name," Eddie growled. He watched as she smirked, a tingle worked through his body.

"Was that his thoughts or yours, Mr. Munson?" She challenged.

"Pardon?" Eddie asked, his tone a little shocked as his eyes widened.

Y/N didn't back down, she placed her hands on his desk, mocking his posture, as she leaned forward.

"Nothing, it just seems you are kinda jealous? I mean you shouldn't be, right? Since you had me in the palm of your hand and sent me away." Her words sent more tingles down Eddie's body.

He chuckled in mockery as he bit his lip. He smelled her perfume, turning his brain into a puddle. His lips were inches away from hers, teasing him as they puckered.

"You'd like that, huh? You've got Alex, and still wondering about me? Shame for that poor boy."

"I think I would. He's cute and knows how to touch me. But he'll never be you, Mr. Munson." She confessed, the more she spoke, the closer they got. Their words went down to whispers.

Eddie felt that jealousy burning through him again at the thought of Alex touching her.

"You are jealous. I can see it," she smirked. Now she had him in the palm of her hand. She tossed all her fucks out the window as she grasped his tie in between her fingers. "So why don't you do something about it?"

Eddie took her challenge and ran with it. He knew there wasn't a single thought in his head that was going to send her walking away like last time.

He wanted to cave

He stood up, his tie falling through her fingers

She watched as he walked around the desk, but she didn't move. He walked over to the door, the sound of the lock turning as she waited.

She gasped when his hands landed on her hips, and he shoved her body against his. She loved the feeling of his hard chest and cock pressed against her.

He pushed aside her hair and pressed his lips against her neck. She moved her head to the side, giving him more room as she melted into his touch. His lips were hot and wet against her soft skin, he moved close to her ear, sucking on the skin right below it.

Eddie's hands trailed down her body and bunched up her dress. He removed his lips from her neck and pushed on her back. She took the hint and bent herself over his desk. He held her dress against her back with his left hand, she shivered when he yanked down her underwear with his right hand.

"Did you touch yourself when you wrote that story?" He asked, his right hand massaged her ass.

"Not immediately, but I did when I woke up." She confessed, her thoughts took her back to when she read it over and over as she fingered herself. No idea she sent it. "Did...did you?" She shyly asked, her eyes staring forward at the whiteboard.

She jolted forward when his right hand cracked down on her ass. She gripped the desk as she moaned when he cracked down a second time.

"I did," he admitted, she felt a smile spread across her face.

"Really?" She asked she turned her head to look at him. She purred in delight at the hungry look in his eyes as he stared at her ass, his hand massaging the skin gently as the skin burned.

"I read it when I woke up, soaked my boxers before I even got to touch myself. Quite the imagination you have, pretty girl."

She blushed when his eyes snapped up to hers. He gave her a cheeky smile.

"I came so hard, thinking of painting the inside of your pretty cunt." He reached up and unzipped her dress, she stood up so it fell at her feet. She kicked it aside and turned around.

She stood face to face with him, her body naked as she reached and unbuttoned his shirt. He sat back and let her strip him, he loved the feeling of her hands skimming down his chest as she worked his belt.

She dropped to her knees as she pulled down his dress pants and boxers. She licked her lips as she softly wrapped her hands around his cock. He moaned as her touch set him on fire.

She licked up his length then wrapped her mouth around his thick tip. He dug his hand into her hair as she forced him further down her throat. She kept taking him until she felt herself gagging around him. He praised her as he bucked his hips forward. She felt his tip hit the back of her throat, she didn't pull back until he did.

She panted as his cock left her mouth. He felt amazing in her throat and tasted better than she imagined. She couldn't help but grow even more excited as he waited to see what he felt like inside of her.

She raised to her feet and jumped on the desk, she spread her legs open and grabbed the tie that still rested around his neck. She yanked the tie as he smirked. He allowed her to drag him forward, his lips hungrily landing on hers. She moaned as his tongue easily slipped inside her mouth. Their tongues battled as he slipped two fingers inside of her.

He swallowed her moans as he fucked his fingers inside of her, stretching her out. She tried to keep up with the kiss but struggled as his fingers felt amazing inside of her.

Eddie pulled away but kept his fingers pumping inside of her.

"I knew you'd be tight," he moaned as he removed his fingers. She watched with heavy eyelids as he sucked his fingers clean.

"Just fuck me," she whined as she clawed at his chest.

He laughed at her eagerness, but he wasn't patient himself. He grabbed his cock and lined his tip with her entrance. She spread her lips open as he began to shove himself inside of her.

Her head was thrown back as he filled her completely, she felt herself being stretched by his length.

His eyes were lost as he stared at his cock moving inside of her. He watched as he pulled out, his cock soaked in her before he pushed himself back in. He loved how easily he slipped inside of her.

He wrapped her legs around his waist as he picked up his pace. All his pent-up aggression, regret, and jealousy flowed through him as he took it out on her.

She gasped and whined as his pace quickened. His skin smacked against hers, and she let her body fall back. Her body jolted and her breasts bounced with every thrust. His hands touched up and down her body. He touched every inch of skin he could reach. He loved watching as her eyes shut with bliss and her body gave into him.

"Fucking beautiful," he moaned as he leaned down to smash his lips on hers. Her brain spun as he fucked and kissed her all at once. His hands were soft as they skimmed down her stomach, goosebumps rising on her skin. Then his hand slipped between their bodies as he began to rub her clit. He removed his lips from hers to kiss down her chest, biting the skin.

"Fuck, Mr. Munson, getting close," she whimpered. She wasn't surprised by how fast her orgasm was approaching. Her body has never felt anything like this. His kiss, his touch, and his cock worked perfectly together to make her stomach burn.

Eddie had flashbacks to her paper, growling as he remembered the fire he felt when he read his name. And how she begged to be filled by him.

"Yeah? You wanna cum? Soak me in your cum?" He teased, his fingers moving faster against her clit as she shook beneath him.

"Please, please," she begged

Somehow his pace got faster and she could feel his balls slapping against her. It didn't take long for her to snap and the instant relief of an orgasm washed over her.

She reached up and gripped his neck as she came. She bit into his shoulder to silence her screams.

Eddie hissed as her teeth sunk into his skin but he loved it. He hoped it left a mark and he could see it every morning before she came into class.

"Good girl," he praised softly into her hair, he gently removed his fingers from her clit. Careful to not make her too sensitive as he chased his orgasm.

"Fill me up, Mr. Munson," she whispered heavily into his ear. Her hands tugged on his hair. His hot lips landed on her neck as he silenced his own moans and growls as he emptied himself inside of her.

He gave a few final thrusts as he pushed his cum inside of her. He breathed heavily as he slipped out of her. He slipped his arms around her body as he pressed her against him.

She panted and waited for the air to return to her lungs before she pulled away.

"Yeah, you definitely read it." She joked as she let out a breathless laugh.

He chucked with her and pecked her shoulders and neck. His kisses moved up and all around her face.

He stepped back and grabbed her dress, he helped her get it on as she slipped off the desk with wobbly legs. He turned her around as he zipped the dress, kissing her spine until the material covered the skin.

She turned the favor and helped him get dressed. He was fully clothed and she noticed her cunt was still bare.

"Where is my underwear?" She chuckled as she looked around the classroom floor.

"Right here," Eddie teased as he waved it in the air. She rolled her eyes and tried to grab it but he raised it over their heads.

"Nah uh, I think I'm going to keep this." He said as he slipped her underwear into his back pocket. The sight itself made her cunt pulse. "I think you should walk out of here with my cum dripping down those thighs as you tell little Alex that date is no longer happening." His voice was deep and dark as he wrapped his hand around her neck.

She turned submissive all over again under his touch. She nodded without a single thought. He smiled and pecked her lips, slowly pulling away so she'd chase his lips.

She pouted when his touch left her completely and he grabbed paper and a pen from his desk. She watched as he scribbled something down.

"This is my number and address, I'll see you tonight, don't bother dressing up. It'll be on my bedroom floor, anyway." He winked as he slipped the paper into her hand.

She sat shocked as he smirked unlocked the door and walked out.

But she couldn't help the huge smile across her face when she saw her underwear peeking out from his pocket.

Tags!

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navybrat817 · 8 months

Text

Teacher's Pet

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You role-play a bit with Bucky before a costume party. Word Count: Over 2.6k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, dirty talk, role-play, inner monologue, established relationship, feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Fic #6 for Navy's Trick or Treat Nonsense! Not exactly a costume party with this Stud and Smartie poll winner, but close? @mumbles411, I think you'll appreciate it.❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Tonight was Tony's Halloween party and it was the perfect excuse to bring one of Bucky's fantasies to life. Months back, he told you about a particular role-play he wanted to try. You, shockingly, didn’t jump him then and there when you asked him to repeat himself, which he did. Right against the shell of your ear.

"I wanna fuck you while you wear a schoolgirl outfit."

Whatever you want, Stud.

You had to admit to yourself, that particular fantasy sounded like fun. You hadn’t thought about fucking any of your teachers before. Had Bucky actually been one of your professors, however, you would’ve been more than willing to cross a line. Who wouldn’t risk it all for him?

You inspected yourself in your mirror with a soft groan as you twirled. You reassured yourself after a moment that you looked good and Bucky would love your costume, if that's what you'd call it. The soft blue cardigan matched one of the shades in the short plaid skirt, which barely covered your ass. The white button-up exposed your midriff, along with the top of your bra, and the knee-high socks provided the finishing touch.

I look sultry, right? No, innocent. Both? Sulocent? Innotry?

With a deep breath, you pushed your door open and left your room to find him.

Oh, fuck.

You weren't sure if you said the words in your head or out loud as you spotted him standing beside the bookshelf in the living room. Everything went quiet in your mind as his gorgeous eyes met yours, but your heart almost raced out of your chest. Instead of his normal work or casual clothes, he had a tight sweater vest over a nice shirt and tie. The outfit made your massive boyfriend look even larger than normal somehow. He even wore a pair of fake glasses to complete his look.

“Well, look at you,” he said, the corner of his lip tugging in a smile as you bit your lip.

Yeah, look at me.

Something predatory in Bucky’s gaze surfaced as he dragged his eyes down the length of your body. You worried initially that the costume was cliche when there were so many others to choose from, but you felt sexy from the way he looked you over. You could’ve worn a hideous costume and he would’ve managed to find a way to compliment you. Tearing your gaze away to glance at the clock, you realized you had time to have some fun together before you had to leave for the party. At least, you hoped he wanted to fool around.

“Professor Barnes,” you breathed, hoping the next words out of your mouth wouldn’t sound ridiculous as you smoothed out your skirt. “Do you have a few minutes to discuss my paper? I want to make sure it’s perfect before I turn it in.”

You weren’t sure if he wanted to experience a bit of role-play before the party, but you wanted to give it to him if he did. The two of you did your best to please one another and it would be something for him to remember for days to come. You would, too.

And I can play it off if he decides he’s not into it, right?

He pushed himself away from the bookshelf to walk toward you, taking slow and deliberate steps as your breath hitched. “Do you normally violate the dress code when you want to discuss a paper? Not what I expect from my top student,” he said, making you swallow as he brushed a finger along one of the buttons on your top. “Or were you just trying to get my attention?”

“I’m going to a party,” you answered, smiling to yourself when he raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure I’ll catch someone’s eye.”

Bucky jaw clenched he stepped closer, forcing you to take a step back with wide eyes. “Is that right? Who said you’ll have time to go to this party?” he asked, backing you up until you were in your bedroom again. “If you really want your paper to be perfect, we’ll have to go through it line by line. That could take quite a bit of time.”

You tried to keep your breathing even as your eyes stayed on him, praying you appeared seductive as you walked backwards until your hips met your desk. “A bit of time? That could take all night, Professor,” you protested, lost in his gaze as he pushed a thigh between your legs.

“I’m counting on it,” he said, his voice quiet and deep as he braced a hand on each side of you. How was it possible for you to come undone when he hadn’t actually touched you? “You still want to be my top student, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do,” you answered as he leaned in, his breath fanning along your lips.

“Good girl,” he whispered, not kissing you just yet as you whimpered. Praise from Bucky always spread warmth through your core. “You do want to be my good girl, right?”

A shiver rolled down your spine when he brought his hands up to cup your face. It didn’t matter how he dressed or acted or what games you played. You knew in your heart this was your Bucky, your roommate, your everything. You were his as much as he was yours. So if he wanted you to be his good girl, you’d give him that.

“Yes, Professor,” you whispered.

His mouth hovered over yours before he kissed you, your mouth moving in perfect time with his. The scent of his cologne filled your nostrils when you inhaled, the touch and smell of him a sensual assault on your senses. The kiss was deep and thorough, a promise of what was to come. It made your head spin when his tongue brushed against yours, your hands flying up to his shoulders because you feared you’d collapse otherwise.

We really might not make it to the party.

“Turn around,” he ordered, his voice rough as he backed up enough for you to face your desk. Your body felt hot and needy, desperate as you fell into that familiar pit of need you often found yourself in with him. “And bend over.”

Blood warmed your cheeks as you bent over as instructed, your ass on display. Well, almost. You wore a pair of snug underwear that covered as much of you as possible. No doubt he saw the wet spot that formed and you didn’t have it in yourself to feel embarrassed with how turned on you were.

“I don’t even have to look at your pussy to know how pretty it is,” he said, flipping your skirt up a bit more. “Bet it’ll look even prettier when it’s taking my cock.”

Please, please, please.

“I thought we were going to discuss my paper,” you said, peering over your shoulder.

“We’ll get to that, but I think we should take care of each other first,” he said, making you clench around nothing as he touched your covered slit. “Or was it your goal to make me hard in my pants and go along your way?”

“No, Professor. I wouldn’t tease you,” you promised, your teeth digging into your bottom lip as he slid your underwear down to your ankles.

“Of course not because you’re my good girl,” he said, your thighs trembling as he pushed them further apart. “My brilliant, sexy, good girl.”

Your head nearly collapsed against the desk, your eyes squeezing shut. Why did his praise make you feel hot and want to cry at the same time? “I…”

Bucky’s hands froze on your thighs when you sniffled, immediately leaning over you and touching your cheek. “Are you okay? Check in, Smartie. Please,” he said softly.

As if you needed more reasons to love Bucky, the fact that he stopped to make sure you were okay meant the world. “Green, Stud. Very much green. I'm okay. I’m sorry,” you replied after taking a breath, your heart nearly beating out of control. “ The praise just hit me all the sudden. And I just love you so much.”

And here you were trying to do something sexy and fun for him and you ruined the moments with your emotions. The erection in his pants probably faded as soon as you sniffled. Maybe the two of you could leave for the party and try again later.

He pressed a gentle kiss to your temple where you felt him smile. “First, you don’t need to apologize for getting emotional. Second, I love you, too. So much. And third, we'll only keep going if you want to.”

Your eyes shut, the urge to cry both surfacing again and subsiding at his words. “I didn’t ruin the moment, did I?” you asked in a tiny voice.

“You’d never ruin the moment,” he replied, his lips touching your temple once more as you sighed. “Trust me.”

It was comforting that you could talk to Bucky about what was going on in your head or heart, whether you elaborated or kept it short. Which was why you felt confident again when you opened your eyes and glanced back at him, seeing only love, desire, and something soft in his stare. “In that case, I want you to fuck me bare, Professor.”

Bucky groaned, his soft hair tickling your neck, before he leaned up. He kept a hand on your back like he knew you needed his touch, his other hand quickly working to open his pants. “You think I’ll go easy on you just because you’re at the top of my class?” he asked, easily slipping back into his role. “You think you’ve earned my cock?”

“I can take whatever you give me. And I’ve earned it. I’m your good girl, remember?” you said, your nipples aching through your clothes as he pressed you further into the desk. Fiery shocks and heat went through your body as his finger teased your clit. “Please.”

You whimpered as he moved the digit to your folds, spreading the growing moisture around with a hum. He teased your hole, but didn’t push inside. The slow torture made you quiver and you wondered just how much more begging you had to do.

“Really is a pretty pussy for me to ruin,” he said, finally pushing in with little resistance. Your eyelids fluttered as he slid in and out, but you needed more. “Maybe I should let you go to that party. Send you in there dripping with my seed and show those boys who you belong to.”

“Please, ruin me,” you begged when he pulled his finger out, looking over your shoulder again. He was going to fuck you with the glasses on and the thought had your body going up in flames. Almost as much as the fact that he was stroking his hard cock to the sight of you. “Make me yours, Professor.”

“You’re already mine, baby,” he told you as he lined himself up. “But if I need to come inside you to prove it, so be it.”

You cried out as he thrust into you, the stretch intense and the force hard enough that you had to grip the desk to hold on. Waves of sensations threatened to explode through you at the deep slide of his cock, your body more worked up than you initially thought. You crushed your chest against the hard surface beneath you and you moaned as he pushed in more. There was no doubt in your mind that he was in control.

And you loved every second of it.

“Fuck, I needed this,” he groaned, his hand mapping along your back as you melted under his tender touch. “Should make you ride me wearing this. Put your hands behind your back with my tie.”

His mouth was on your neck in an instant when you moaned, licking and lightly sucking as his hips rocked against yours. The image of you in his lap filled your mind, your hands bound as he helped you bounce up and down on his cock. There would be plenty of time for that later. For now, he was practically pounding you into your desk and you wondered why you hadn’t worn an outfit like this for him sooner.

“Should keep you under my desk,” he went on, feeling his weight press you down more as he thrust. “Such a smart mouth in class, I know you can use it to keep me warm.”

“Fuck, please,” you begged, trying to push your hips back. He drove harder and deeper, your wet walls on the verge of quivering with bliss. “Please, Professor.”

He chuckled low in your ear, your eyelids fluttering again as you mewled. Your building orgasm threatened to rip through you and you barely registered that you begged for him again. “Already close, aren’t you? And I thought you were a good girl,” he said, his breath hot as he sped up his thrusts. “But bad girls let their professors fuck them bare, don’t they?”

“Y-Yes,” you whined, your eyes starting to roll back when he angled his hips to hit that glorious spot inside you. “Oh- There. There! Please!”

“My good and bad girl,” he grunted, moving faster as you arched your back, needing desperately to come.

“Want you to come in me,” you blurted out, teetering on the edge. Just a bit more and you’d fall. You needed it.

“I’ll come in you when you come for me,” he urged, smiling when he said the words that made you come undone. “You can do it, baby. Make me proud.”

The cry you let out was a decibel you didn’t think you were capable of reaching when you came, succumbing to pleasure as you shivered beneath him. He let out an impressive string of swears as you quivered around him, chasing his end as ecstasy flowed through you. A few more thrusts and he was gone, painting your walls with a growl before he rested his head on the back of your neck, both of you trying to steady your breathing.

You made a sound of protest as he pulled out of you, both because you didn’t want him to leave your body and you didn’t want his release spilling all over the floor. As if he sensed the latter, he pulled your underwear back up your legs. “Hey. I’m here,” he said, carefully guiding you to the bed so you could cuddle together. You were thankful he moved you since you didn’t have the strength to move yourself.

Fuck the party. I can’t walk.

“So,” he said after a minute, letting out a deep breath as he rubbed your back. “You earned an A.”

You giggled when he smiled, the sight making your heart speed up again. “Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah,” he sighed, a dreamy look in his eyes. You were glad he was satisfied. “Thank you for indulging me.”

“Don’t thank me. It was fun for both of us,” you said, tracing a heart on his chest. “The glasses really are a nice touch. You should wear them again.”

“Yeah? You like how I look in these?” he asked, adjusting them on his nose.

“I do. You’re always handsome,” you said, his blue eyes crinkling behind the lenses.

“I like looking good for you,” he said, tilting your chin to give you a soft kiss. “And I’m fucking you at the party.”

Oh, Stud. You know how to make a girl feel special.

“You better,” you said, burrowing yourself closer. “But I need a minute before I try to move, Stud.”

“Whatever you want, Smartie,” he whispered, linking your fingers together as he took your hand. “Whatever you want.”

These two will always have a special place in my heart. Love and thanks for reading! 🧡

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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wholoveseggs · 3 months

Note

hey girl! i was wondering if you could write some angst - maybe like an unrequited love? like the reader is in love with Elijah but is too shy to tell him, and he doesn’t know about her feelings towards him because he’s too focused on Hayley? pretty please 🫶🏻

Crush

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

You have quite the crush on Rebekah's big brother, and you find yourself lost in the tangled web of unreciprocated feelings, yearning for a love that may never be yours.

♡♡ Thanks for the request @msveronicag, I may have gone a little off topic with this one ♡♡

6.7k words - Warnings: angst, masturbation, smut, corsets, Elijah being a history nerd and using it to flirt, Rebekah being the best (as always)

{Moodboard->}

You were excited to meet Rebekah’s infamous family. You thought Klaus, as notorious as he was, would intrigue you the most. However, the moment you laid eyes on him you knew you were doomed. Elijah. His charming smile, his piercing dark eyes and his strong hands. It took all your self-control not to blush and look away like some schoolgirl.

He was the first person who greeted you, his hand lingered in yours a moment longer than what could be considered polite and it sent butterflies straight into your stomach.

You were so gone, it was almost embarrassing. You couldn't help it, you were sure that anyone else would fall head over heels for him too.

But there was only one small problem: Elijah had eyes for another, Hayley Marshall. You tried not to be bitter, after all, they were just friends. However, you couldn't help but notice the way he looked at her, or the way she leaned into his touch. They way they would sometimes have entire conversations with their eyes. You couldn't stand it.

You had been so sure you had a chance. He had been flirting with you, right? But then you noticed that he was that way will everyone. He would flirt and smile, then gaze at you in a way that just oozed sex appeal.

You were staying in the compound with Rebekah and going to school full time. You enjoyed spending your free time reading, the Mikaelsons had an incredible collection of books and you had read a lot of them.

You were sitting at the table, a large book on medieval history in front of you. You were working on a research paper on romanticism in the middle ages. It was difficult, especially because there wasn't much written about that subject from this time period.

You considered asking Rebekah about it, but you knew it was a sore subject for her, so you decided against it.

You were getting ready to give up and start a new project when Elijah entered the room. You blushed at the sight of him, he was wearing a black T-shirt, and jeans. Looking the most casual you had ever seen him.

He gave you a friendly nod and headed to the bookshelf. He looked through the books for a moment, before taking one from the shelf. He placed it on the table before sitting across from you and beginning to read.

The two of you sat in silence for a while, both of you reading and not making a sound. You were surprised that you weren't more uncomfortable. The only sounds were the occasional page turn and the occasional noise from the city outside.

You got lost in your work again and came across an interesting paragraph about how poetry was used often to court potential partners. You wondered if Elijah had done that back then. He seemed like the kind of guy who would have.

The thought of Elijah reading you poetry made your heart skip a beat. You imagined him leaning in, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered words of affection and lust.

Your eyes glanced up, and your breath hitched when you realized he was staring at you. You flushed, quickly looking back at your work.

He chuckled softly and reached out, tapping the top of your textbook.

"Interesting choice of reading material." He said.

You gave him a small smile, "I'm trying to write a research paper on the Middle Ages." You replied. "About romance and poetry."

"Ah, yes." He said with a smirk, "I remember that time period fondly."

You giggled, "Of course you do. You were probably the biggest player around."

He gave you an odd look, crossing his legs and leaning back in his chair. His eyes looked you up and down, and you could see a flash of something indecipherable cross them. You were surprised by how intense his gaze was, and felt your cheeks growing hot, regretting opening your mouth.

"What do you mean by that?" He asked, his tone teasing.

"I... uh..." You stammered, not sure how to respond. "You just seem like the type who'd have his pick of women."

Elijah smirked, his dark eyes meeting yours. "And why would you think that?" He asked, his voice low and dangerous.

You swallowed nervously, and his eyes narrowed slightly. You realized he was toying with you, and that he could hear your heartbeat quickening. You weren't going to let him win.

"I think you know why." You said, your voice surprisingly steady.

Elijah chuckled, his eyes roaming over your body once again. He put his hand on this chin and looked at you thoughtfully. "In the middle ages I was actually quite solitary." He said, a smirk still playing on his lips.

"What was it like back then?" You asked, trying to steer the conversation away from your previous comment.

Elijah's expression softened slightly, and his gaze seemed far away. "It was a different time." He said wistfully.

You couldn't help but stare at him. His eyes were filled with such pain and sadness. You knew he'd experienced terrible things, and that it must've been difficult for him. But somehow he'd managed to survive and maintain his humanity, something that very few vampires could say.

"What was it like to date -sorry- court someone back then? You asked, hoping to get a better understanding of him.

"Women were often married off when they were very young." Elijah said, a grim expression on his face. "They had no say in the matter. But there were ways around it."

He paused, his eyes meeting yours, and a slow smile spread across his lips. "It wasn't easy to be alone with a woman, not even for a moment. If you wanted to seduce her, you had to be creative."

Your face turned a deep shade of crimson, and you were suddenly thankful for the dim lighting. You shifted in your seat uncomfortably, and he chuckled softly, clearly amused by your discomfort.

"What we are doing right now, alone in this room," he said, his voice low and seductive, "it wouldn't be allowed. Not without a chaperone. And if we were discovered, the consequences would be severe."

His eyes flashed with desire, and you found yourself unable to look away.

"What would they do?" You asked, your voice barely a whisper.

"Well," he said, his tone mischievous, "you'd have to marry me, of course."

Your eyes widened in shock, and he laughed loudly, enjoying the reaction he'd gotten from you.

You felt flustered and embarrassed, but also oddly flattered. You couldn't believe he'd actually suggested that, and the thought of it made your heart race.

You wondered if he was joking, but you didn't dare ask. You weren't sure you could handle the answer.

The two of you sat quietly for a moment, before Hayley walked in holding Hope. She gave Elijah a questioning look and he stood, walking over to her. You watched as he placed a gentle kiss on the baby's forehead.

"Can you watch her for a few hours? They need me in the bayou," she asked him, her eyes wide and pleading.

"Of course." He replied, giving her a small smile.

She smiled gratefully, placing a hand on his cheek. "Thank you," she said, her voice soft and affectionate.

Elijah took Hope from Hayley's arms and cradled her gently. Giving her a wide smile and making funny faces, causing her to giggle. You couldn't help but smile. He was so sweet with her.

Hayley looked from you to Elijah, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "See you later." She said, before walking away.

Elijah nodded, his gaze lingering on her a moment before turning back to you. You looked down at your textbook, feeling guilty and jealous all at once.

He walked over to the couch and sat down, Hope still in his arms. You couldn't help but stare at the two of them. Elijah held his niece with such tenderness, and Hope seemed completely content in his arms. He was rocking her back and forth, humming a soft tune under his breath.

You'd never seen anything more beautiful.

Hope's eyes slowly started to droop, and Elijah smiled down at her. He continued to hum and rock her until her eyes finally closed, and she was asleep.

"You are so good with her." You said, unable to hold back the compliment.

He smiled, and his eyes met yours. You felt your heart skip a beat, and you quickly looked away, embarrassed.

You were sure he could hear it.

"Thank you," he said, not taking his eyes off Hope.

You tried to focus on your work, but it was difficult. Your mind kept wandering, and you found yourself glancing over at him more and more.

"I better go put her down, have a nice night." He said, standing up with Hope in his arms and heading towards the nursery.

"You too," you replied, smiling up at him.

Once he was gone, you let out a sigh and sank back into the couch. Your heart was still racing, and you were sure your face was still bright red.

It was the first time the two of you had been alone together. The first time you'd gotten a glimpse of his softer side.

And it made you want him even more.

Over the next few weeks you kept finding yourself alone with him. In the kitchen, in the library, on the balcony. It was getting harder and harder to hide your feelings, and you weren't sure how much longer you could keep it up.

He would ask you questions about your paper, and the two of you would talk for hours. He would listen to your ideas and tell you of his own experiences in the Middle Ages.

You loved how passionate he was about everything. The way his eyes lit up when he talked about something he enjoyed.

You wondered if he could see how you were falling for him, if he noticed how you blushed whenever he touched you. You were sure he did.

You knew it was foolish, but you couldn't help it. Every time you were around him, you couldn't stop yourself from imagining what it would be like to kiss him, to touch him. To be with him.

But he didn't seem interested, he didn't look at you the way he looked at Hayley.

One night, the two of you were sitting on the balcony, watching the stars. He was telling you a story of how he courted a woman who was to be wed to another, he would compel her betrothed to forget that he was around her.

"I don't miss much about those times, everything smelled terrible and fanaticism ran rampant, but there was something about the secrecy and the scandal that made it all..." He paused, looking for the right word, "exciting."

You chuckled, "I'm sure. But the fact that a lady could be forced to marry a man she didn't want... that sounds horrible."

"It was," Elijah agreed, "but not everyone was unhappy. Some women preferred it."

"Why?" You asked, your brows furrowing.

"Some liked the idea of being taken care of, of not having to make decisions or choices." He shrugged. "Others simply liked the security."

"What do you think?" You asked.

He turned to look at you, his eyes studying your face intently. "I think it was wrong. No woman should be forced into a marriage she doesn't want. No one should have that much power over another person."

You smiled, glad that he held similar opinions to your own.

"But I do miss the corsets, the anticipation when taking one off, pulling the ribbons and slowly revealing the soft, delicate skin underneath," his eyes met yours, his gaze intense. "It was like unwrapping a gift, a treasure."

You couldn't stop yourself from blushing, his words making your heart race.

He chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with amusement. He took a sip of his bourbon and leaned back in his chair, his gaze never leaving yours.

"Do you have enough information for your paper now?" He asked.

You smiled and nodded, "yes, but I don't know how to credit my sources," you chuckled. "I can't tell my professor that I'm writing a paper on the middle ages based on the first hand account of a vampire I know," you grinned.

"Hmmm, yes, I suppose that would be difficult." He said, his tone teasing. "How about you quote a 'unique source' that has a vast knowledge of the subject and a passion for it?"

You laughed, "That might work."

"Good," he said, offering you his hand. "Shall we?"

You looked at him quizzically, "where are we going?"

He smirked, "to the 14th century, of course."

"What?" You said, staring at him in disbelief.

"First hand experience is far more educational than anything written down," he said, taking your hand in his.

"You ready?" He asked, his expression serious.

You bit your lip nervously, unsure of what was about to happen, but you trusted him.

"Ready."

You were immediately plunged into his memories. He was standing in a large stone hall, surrounded by people in period clothing. There was laughter and music, and the scent of roasted meat and wine filled the air.

You watched as Elijah walked through the crowd, smiling and greeting people as he passed. He was dressed in a dark red tunic, and his hair was slicked back into a ponytail. It was an amusing haircut for him, but it was the fashion back then.

You followed him as he made his way towards a woman standing in a corner. She was beautiful, her dark hair was braided into a crown on her head, and she was wearing a yellow gown with red embroidery.

Elijah stood next to her, his hand resting on her arm. She turned to look at him, her eyes filled with longing. A feeling you knew well.

"My Lady," he said, bowing his head.

"Sir," she said, her voice soft and sensual.

"Would you care to dance?" He asked, offering her his hand.

She hesitated, her gaze shifting towards a man who was watching them intently.

"I don't think my husband would approve."

"You worry too much," Elijah said, taking her hand and leading her onto the dance floor.

They began to move together, their bodies swaying in perfect sync. You couldn't tear your eyes away, watching the two of them. They moved with such grace and elegance, it was like watching a dance meant only for the two of them.

A sudden movement caught your eye, and you saw the woman's husband storming towards the couple. His eyes were filled with rage, and his jaw was clenched tightly.

"Elijah," you said, hoping he could hear you.

But he didn't respond, instead he continued to dance with the woman, ignoring her husband's fury. When the husband reached them, Elijah simply grabbed the man and compelled him.

"I'm going to take a walk with your wife, she will be back before the sun comes up."

He let go of the man, who immediately walked away, not saying a word. Elijah offered his hand to the woman, and she took it, a small smile playing on her lips.

They walked out of the castle together, and you found yourself following behind. You watched as they strolled through the gardens, their hands entwined. They stopped under a large oak tree, and Elijah pulled her close, kissing her deeply.

You were mesmerized by the scene, your heart aching for the man you had grown to love. You wished it was you in her place. You wished he would kiss you like that.

You heard Elijah's voice, but it wasn't coming from the version in front of you. "I courted her for months, sneaking into her chambers, bringing her flowers and trinkets," he chuckled. "It was rather clandestine and exciting."

"What happened?" You asked, wanting to know the ending.

"She became pregnant with her husband's child." He said, his voice low and full of regret.

Your heart ached for him, and for the woman who had been forced to marry another man. The memory faded and you returned to the present, still holding Elijah's hand.

"I'm sorry," you said, not knowing what else to say.

He smiled, "It's alright, it was a long time ago."

"It's lonely isn't it? Being a vampire?" You asked.

He was quiet for a moment, before answering. "Yes. I think it's why I value my family so much," his gaze shifted to yours, and he gave your hand a gentle squeeze. "And why I treasure our friendship."

"Me too," you said softly, smiling up at him.

You both sat in silence for a while, watching the stars and enjoying each other's company. After a while, Elijah stood, fixing his suit jacket and giving you a smile. "I hope you get an A on your paper."

You grinned, "Thanks for the help, Elijah. Goodnight."

You went to your room, lying awake in the dark. Your thoughts consumed with him, the way he spoke to you, the way he looked at you. The memory he had shared with you, it was so personal, and yet he didn't mind that you were there.

Your mind wandered to the way he was kissing that woman in the garden. His lips pressing against hers, his hands gripping her waist, his body flush against hers. You could see the way her head fell back, her eyes fluttering shut. You could feel the heat between them.

Your skin began to flush, and you felt a warmth between your legs. You had never felt such an intense desire for someone before, but there was no denying it.

You wanted him, you wanted to experience that kind of passion, that kind of intimacy.

Your hand trailed down your body, slowly slipping under the waistband of your panties. Your fingers brushing against your most sensitive spot. You gasped at the sensation, biting your lip as you started to circle your finger slowly.

Your eyes fluttered shut and you pictured him above you, his body pressed against yours as he kissed your neck and shoulders. Your hand moving faster as you imagined what his mouth would feel like on your skin, what it would feel like to have his lips pressed against yours.

You gasped, arching your back as you felt yourself coming undone, his name on your lips as you imagined him touching you.

Your chest was rising and falling rapidly, and you felt the aftershocks of your orgasm ripple through you. It was a satisfying release, but it left you wanting more.

You were determined to have him, to taste him, to feel him inside of you. You were going to make him yours.

You practically skipped into the compound, giddy and excited to share your A+ grade on your paper. Elijah had been so helpful, and you couldn't wait to show him.

You heard voices coming from the courtyard, and you hurried past the gate, hoping to find him. You stopped dead in your tracks when you saw him, his arms wrapped around Hayley.

Her hand was tangled in his hair, and her body was pressed against his. Their eyes were closed, and their lips were locked in a passionate kiss.

You couldn't move. Your heart was shattered. You'd been foolish, thinking you had a chance with him. He was just being nice in his typical flirty way, and you were dumb enough to think it meant more. You'd just been reading into things.

You felt tears sting your eyes, and you quickly walked past them and up to your room. You collapsed onto the bed, your heart broken.

You cried, unable to hold back the pain.

You felt so stupid.

He didn't like you, he was just being friendly. And you'd fallen for it, hook, line, and sinker. How could you possibly believe someone like him could ever like someone like you?

You heard a quiet knock at your door and Rebekah walked in, she had heard you crying and came to check on you.

"Hey, are you alright?" She asked, sitting down on the bed beside you.

"I'm fine." You said, your voice hoarse.

"Just crying for fun then?" She said, giving you a knowing look.

You sighed and sat up, wiping the tears from your face. "I'm just being silly," you said, shaking your head.

She sat down next to you and pulled you into a hug, which caused you to cry even more. She rubbed your back, trying to comfort you.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She asked.

"No, I just need to get over it." You said, your voice breaking.

"Get over what darling?" Rebekah asked, her eyes filled with concern.

"Elijah." You said, wiping away your tears.

She looked at you, confusion written all over her face.

"I may have a bit of a crush on your brother." You confessed.

She laughed, "Oh is that all? I thought you were going to say something terrible."

"What? You aren't surprised?" You asked, staring at her in disbelief.

"You're not exactly subtle, darling." She chuckled. "Your heart beats faster, making your cheeks flush, whenever he's near. And your eyes light up like Christmas morning whenever he talks to you. It's rather obvious."

You couldn't believe she had noticed all that. Damn vampires and their heightened senses, you were mortified. If Rebekah noticed then Elijah definitely did as well.

You buried your face in your hands, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

"So why the tears?" Rebekah asked, patting you on the shoulder.

"Because I just saw him kissing Hayley."

Rebekah was quiet for a moment, thinking it over. She put her arm around your shoulders.

"That might not mean anything, they're just friends. They have a complicated history," she explained.

You shook your head, "No, I saw the way he looked at her, the way she kissed him. There's definitely something between them, and it's more than just friendship."

Rebekah sighed and hugged you again."He's an idiot, always been that way around women. Sometimes I think it's more of a blind spot for him than Klaus," she said, her voice soothing.

You chuckled and wiped away your tears.

"He'll come around eventually," she said, smiling softly. "He just needs time to figure it out."

"Figure what out?" You asked, sniffling.

"That you're the perfect girl for him," she said, giving you an affectionate smile.

You smiled back and hugged her, thankful for her support. You felt a little better, and you were glad that she didn't judge you.

"I have an idea, a way for you to make him see what a catch you are," Rebekah said, her eyes glinting.

"Really?" You asked, excited at the prospect.

"Yes and it will be a chance for you to get him alone, away from Hayley," she smirked.

"I don't want to be that girl..," you started, not sure if you should meddle.

"I am," she grinned.

You chuckled, and Rebekah began telling you the plan. You listened intently, feeling better already. You were excited, and nervous.

But mostly excited.

Rebekah's idea was to have a costume party, she loved any excuse to throw one. It also gave you a reason to dress up, to catch Elijah's eye.

You went shopping with Rebekah, she wanted to make sure you got something that would suit your figure. She asked you what sort of theme it should be and you couldn't resist choosing one that you knew well: a medieval theme.

You found a beautiful, off the shoulder, forest green dress, with a tight laced corset that had gold threading, and long, flowing, bell sleeves. It was the perfect combination of modern and historical and it made your tits look fantastic.

Rebekah had gone with a blue version of the same dress, and the two of you were having a blast getting ready. She helped you style your hair for the night and even did your makeup, making sure that your look would draw Elijah's eye.

"Ready?" She asked, as the two of you looked at yourselves in the mirror.

"Yes," you said, trying to mask your nerves.

The two of you made your way down to the courtyard, where the party was in full swing.

Everyone was dressed in costumes from various time periods, and the atmosphere was electric. The music was loud, and people were dancing, laughing, and having a good time.

You saw Hayley and Klaus talking to some guests, and your eyes wandered around the room, looking for Elijah.

He was standing by the bar, his eyes scanning the crowd. He looked incredible, his dark hair perfectly styled, wearing a black velvet suit jacket with a high collar, a blue cravat and a white dress shirt.

Hayley walked up to you and Rebekah, and complimented the both of you on your dresses. She was dressed in a Victorian era gown, complete with a corset and a large bustle.

"So, where's Elijah tonight?" Rebekah asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Oh, he's around here somewhere," Hayley said bitterly, glancing around the room.

You felt a twinge of excitement. She sounded irritated by him. Maybe she wasn't happy in their relationship.

"What's wrong ?" Rebekah asked her, squeezing your hand subtly. You loved how sneaky she could be sometimes.

"It's just," Hayley paused, her eyes narrowing as she thought about her answer. "I don't think he's very interested in a relationship with me, he's been avoiding me all night."

Rebekah and you shared a look, a smirk playing on your lips.

"He's a hard one to read, that's for sure," you said, trying to sound sympathetic.

"I'm sorry to hear that darling, but perhaps its for the best," Rebekah added.

"Maybe, I just thought we were on the same page, I thought we had something," Hayley said, a pout forming on her lips.

You could see the pain in her eyes, and you couldn't help but feel sorry for her. You knew exactly how she felt.

"You're a gorgeous woman, and any man would be lucky to have you," Rebekah said, her voice genuine.

"Thanks," Hayley said, a sad smile on her face. "There is this guy here, his name is Jack, we've been flirting all night and he wants to dance with me," she said, looking over at a tall, handsome man in a knight costume.

"Then go," Rebekah said, smiling at her.

"Yeah, you deserve some fun," you said, trying not to sound too happy that Elijah might be single.

"Alright, I'm gonna do it," she said, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

She walked off, and Rebekah turned to you, her face breaking into a wide grin.

"How unfortunate for Hayley, how fortunate for you," she smirked.

You couldn't help but smile.

"Go, now's your chance, he's all alone." Rebekah said, her eyes scanning the room.

"I'm not going to make a fool of myself," you said, shaking your head.

"You're not going to make a fool of yourself darling, you're going to have a wonderful time," she said, giving you a little shove.

You took a deep breath and headed toward Elijah, your heart racing. He looked very similar to how he dressed in the memory he shared with you, and you felt butterflies in your stomach.

He was standing alone by the bar, his gaze distant. You walked up to him and smiled, trying to ignore the lump in your throat.

"Hey," you said, trying to sound casual. "Nice outfit, all you are missing is the ponytail,” you added, grinning at him.

"Some things are better left in the past," he teased, his eyes wandering over your dress. "You look lovely," he added, a small smile on his face.

"You like the corset?" You asked, biting your lip and giving him a twirl. You always felt so giddy around him, it made you do silly things, like this.

His eyes widened, and a smirk spread across his face. "Yes, it's quite flattering," he said, his gaze lingering on your breasts.

You blushed but maintained your composure, Elijah liked confident women, and you were going to show him what he was missing.

"Does it remind you of the era?" You asked, a flirty tone in your voice.

"No, it's far too revealing for the time period," he smirked.

"Oh, really? You didn't think this was sexy in the middle ages?" You asked, arching an eyebrow.

"I didn't say that," he chuckled.

"Good," you smiled, "I worked hard on this outfit."

He looked at you, his face full of curiosity.

"You are definitely thorough in your research," he said, his eyes twinkling.

"I forgot to tell you I got an A+ on the paper, thank you for your help," you said, smiling brightly.

"It was a purely selfish reason, I wanted an excuse to spend time with you," he said, his words catching you off guard.

"Oh, I," you stammered, not sure how to respond.

"You are always very easy to be around," he said, giving you a gentle smile.

You smiled and nodded, his compliment filling your heart with joy.

"Care to dance?" He asked, offering you his hand.

Your heart raced, and your breath caught in your throat. You nodded, unable to form words. He took your hand and led you to the dance floor, his grip firm and possessive.

You looked up at him, your heart pounding. He was so handsome, and the way he was looking at you made you weak in the knees.

You closed your eyes and let him lead, the feel of his hands on your body making your blood run hot. You couldn't believe this was happening, it felt surreal.

"I have a confession," he said, his voice barely audible above the music.

"What is it?" you asked, looking into his eyes.

"You make me nervous," he stuttered, his words causing your heart to flutter.

You let out a louder laugh than you meant too, then turned bright red and some people glanced at you. You didn't want him to think you were laughing at him, but you couldn't stop.

"Me? Nervous? How do I make you nervous?" You asked, genuinely curious.

He tilted his head in confusion, a wide smile forming on his face.

"I mean, look at you," he said, his fingers gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "You're breathtaking."

You blushed, not used to receiving such compliments. "You make me nervous too," you confessed, smiling shyly.

"I know," he smirked, causing you to blush deeper.

You gazed up at him, his brown eyes full of warmth and admiration. He truly was an incredible man.

You rested your head against his chest and closed your eyes, letting the music and the feeling of his arms around you wash over you. It felt like the most natural thing in the world, like you were made for each other. Your heart soared, you felt like you were dreaming.

He leaned down and whispered in your ear, "Do you want to go somewhere quieter?"

Your eyes snapped open and your heart raced, his question sending a rush of heat to your core.

He wanted you.

You nodded, unable to form words. He took your hand, a smirk forming on his lips as he led you toward a balcony. You followed him eagerly, your heart hammering in your chest.

The cool air hit your face, and he led you to a secluded area, away from the other party guests. You gazed at him, your desire for him overwhelming.

He placed his hands on your waist and pressed you up against the wall. His lips were mere inches from yours, his eyes burning into you.

His fingers brushed against the side of your face, then he leaned in and kissed you. It was slow and passionate, his lips soft against yours. You let out a quiet moan as you melted into his kiss.

He pulled away and looked at you, his eyes full of desire. "You have no idea how long I've wanted this," he breathed.

"Then why were you kissing Hayley?" You blurted out before you could stop yourself. You felt terrible for even saying it, it made you seem jealous and possessive. You knew it wasn't fair for you to get upset at him, you had no right to. But you couldn't help it.

His eyes widened and a smirk spread across his face. "So you are jealous?"

You blushed and averted your gaze.

"It was a mistake, she caught me by surprise," he explained, his fingers brushing your hair back. "I'm sorry if I hurt you."

You nodded and looked up at him. He smiled and kissed you again, this time harder and more passionate.

He broke the kiss and whispered, "I've been drawn to you from the moment I met you."

Your heart soared at his words, your desire for him overwhelming. You wanted to feel his skin against yours, you needed him.

"Do you want to see my room? I have some books to share with you," you asked, knowing neither of you were doing any reading tonight.

He raised an eyebrow, "Lead the way," he said, his eyes twinkling.

Your heart pounded with excitement, and you took his hand in yours, leading him up to your room. You couldn't believe this was happening.

He closed the door behind him and kissed you, leading you backwards towards your bed. The back of your legs hit the edge and you fell down on the bed, your chest rising and falling rapidly. The corset making it difficult to breath, you tried to keep calm as you looked up at him. The reality was better than any fantasy you could ever dream of.

He placed his knee on the bed and leaned down to kiss you, his hands moving over your body, his fingers tugging at the laces of the corset. He did it slowly, each pull causing your breasts to spill out a little more.

He hummed softy, leaning down and kissing your neck and collarbone as your corset fell to the ground. He was so gentle with you, treating you with care, his movements deliberate and confident.

He unlaced the front of your dress, exposing your breasts. He gazed down at you, a look of wonder in his eyes. You couldn't help but blush at his reaction.

"Did you wear this in the hope I would take it off?" He asked, his voice husky.

"Maybe," you blushed.

He chuckled, leaning down and taking one of your breasts into his mouth. You let out a soft moan as he licked and sucked your nipple, his hands kneading your breast. You ran your hands through his hair, pulling him closer, needing more.

He pulled back and smiled down at you, then began to undo his cravat. You watched him eagerly, biting your lip as he pulled it off and began unbuttoning his shirt. You reached out and helped him, your hands brushing against his toned chest.

He smiled and took your hand, pressing his lips to the inside of your wrist. "I've dreamt of this moment for so long," he murmured.

He reached out and pulled your dress up over your head, leaving you in just your panties and stockings. His gaze was filled with desire as he looked down at you.

You felt confident under his gaze, he made you feel beautiful. He leaned down and kissed you again, his fingers running up your thighs, playfully pulling on your stocking and letting it snap back into place. You giggled at his teasing.

He smiled against your lips and tugged your panties off. His eyes raked over your body, his gaze filled with desire.

You reached out and helped him remove the rest of his clothes, your heart racing.

He lowered himself down on the bed beside you and pulled you into his arms, kissing you softly. His hand lifted your thigh around his hips, and he ran his fingers along your thigh and between your legs, a groan escaping his throat at the feel of how wet you were for him. You blushed at his reaction and looked away, feeling shy all of a sudden.

"Are you nervous?" He asked, looking down at you, his gaze tender and warm.

"A little, you're the first vampire I've been with," you admitted.

He chuckled, a wide smile on his face. "I promise I won't bite," he whispered, a hint of humor in his voice.

You couldn't help but giggle.

You ran your hand up and down his chest, then slowly down to his hard length. You took his shaft in your hand and began to stroke him, a low groan escaping his lips.

Your eyes locked, his gaze filled with desire as he watched you pleasure him. You increased the pressure of your strokes, rubbing the tip of him in your hand.

"You feel nice," you whispered, your lips inches from his own.

He smiled and pulled you on top of him, your breasts against his chest as he kissed you deeply, his hands gripping your ass. You grinded on him slowly, the feel of his cock against your pussy making you gasp.

You sat up and slowly sank down onto him, the feel of him inside of you making your breath catch in your throat. He felt so good.

"You're perfect," he whispered as he reached up and ran his fingers through your hair, gently tugging you back down to him, kissing you deeply. You began to rock on top of him, the friction causing you to moan softly. He ran his hands over your back, groaning into your ear as you rode him, taking him deeper.

It was slow, hot and sticky, the two of you getting to know each other's bodies, exploring and teasing. Your orgasm slowly built, your moans becoming more and more intense. You felt his grip on you tighten, his breathing becoming ragged.

Your heart pounded against his as he gazed up at you, a smile on his lips. His hands gripped your hips and he took control, guiding your movements, rocking you back and forth. You gazed into each other's eyes, a silent understanding passing between the two of you. You felt a connection beyond lust or attraction, something deep and beautiful, and you knew he felt it too.

You rocked together, lost in one another, and you let yourself fall apart on top of him. Your body spasming, a long moan escaping your throat as your orgasm crashed into you, your muscles clenching around him.

He gazed up at you, his eyes filled with love and desire. "That's my girl," he whispered.

He gently rolled you on to your side, keeping your bodies connected. His fingers digging into your thigh as he held it against his hip, kissing and nuzzling your neck. He took you slowly, drawing out your pleasure as long as possible. His eyes never left yours, the love you felt for each other in that moment, palpable in the room.

Your fingers tangled into his hair, you tugged his head towards yours as you kissed him. He kissed you back, his movements becoming more frantic, his thrusts deep and rough.

His eyebrows arched upwards, the muscles in his neck and shoulders tensing. Your clung to his shoulders, moaning his name as he found his release deep inside of you. He held you close as he came down, the two of you a tangle of limbs and sweaty bodies.

He kept kissing you, soft and unhurried, his hand stroking your thigh, keeping you connected and still wrapped around him. You both caught your breath as you held each other close, neither wanting the moment to end.

"I've had a crush on you since the first day I saw you," you murmured into his ear, causing him to pull away and smile.

He leaned down and kissed your forehead, "And I, you."

He gently slipped out of you and pulled the sheets over your naked bodies, his arms encircling you in his embrace. You fell asleep in each other's arms, content and happy, dreaming of more nights just like this.

{Moodboard->}

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azul-marie · 1 year

Text

ada. (enamour)

fem. reader. love rivalry including ada/reader/leon. (focus on reader)

something cold digs in between your shoulder blades, sending shivers up tense muscles.

it’s a sudden sensation. catches you off guard you forget to call out to leon, whose back is turned to you whilst sifting through paper files laying across an abandoned wooden desk. the latest room you’ve snuck into seemed abandoned enough — save for its open window rocking back and forth on screeching bolts. they must’ve entered through there mere seconds before the two of you did.

warm, sweet breath tickles your earlobe. another round of shivers overtake your senses. this time, through, you recover quickly enough to react.

your hand flies to your pocketed blade and in an instant is pressed up to their throat. it is then you realize, recognize who your company is. she smiles serenely at you, acting like the knife at her neck isn’t sharp enough to slice through bone. she bears her pistol with all the grace of someone who’s caught you in her web, not the other way around.

“long time no see, kitten.”

her deadpan voice practically echoes through the silence of the night. finally surprising your partner into turning around. what surprises him further is the way ada gazes at you, almost identical to the way she did at him all those years ago.

“ada.” leon says plainly, hand hovering over his own pistol. his eyes flicker between the two of you, to the way your hand fumbles with your blade, to how she smiles a little too suggestively for someone being threatened. he’s certain you’re about to push her down, or for her to knock the knife away from your obviously loosened grip — neither happen.

instead, you carefully tuck your blade away and greet her with a coy smile of your own.

“i wasn’t expecting you here, red.” your arms cross, a guard of sorts. you knew full well of the games she liked to play. she holds your eyes as she slips her pistol back in its holster, searching for something you refuse to show. it’s been a long time, indeed, but you still remember how to compose yourself around her. it’s all rather flattering.

ada circles you, trailing her fingertips over your shoulders. her silky touch is the only weapon in her grasp, but it is perhaps her most dangerous. she takes pleasure in the way you shift beneath her watch, how your pretty face fights to remain mild. she’s no fool. she sees the smile playing at those luscious lips of yours — why bother hiding it? she’s all sultry eyes just for you, now that she’s finally managed to separate your stuffy partner’s hip from yours. seems he hadn’t changed after all. he really was the clingy type.

it was cute. once. not when he happened to be clingy with you of all people.

“once i heard you were around, i just couldn’t help myself.” her arm comes to rest around the curve of your waist. her fingers press into the flesh of your hip, easing you closer. her lips hover over the soft of your neck, almost kissing a path up to your ear. your breathing stutters, and she purrs, “wanted to stop by and catch up with my favorite girl, is all.”

you scoff, but there’s no stopping the heat rising up and over your face. those pretty lips of yours finally turn up in a smile, bashful like a schoolgirl crush. the temptation to run her thumb over your bottom lip runs strong — until an awkward, intentional clear of a throat interrupts the thought.

“i’d appreciate if you left my partner alone.” leon interjects, striding to stand tall besides you. in a swift motion he interweaves your elbows together and pulls you towards him, at once halting the hold she had on you. it’s a comfortable, possessive sort of touch. how quaint. cute little leon, still wearing his heart on his sleeve.

given the way his hand clamps around yours, he must really have it bad. what a shame. for him.

ada is slow to drag her eyes away from you. she even runs them up, down, over your lovely body for good measure. she can’t have leon thinking she isn’t willing to compete — two can play at that game. his fuming glower tells her he’s gotten the message loud and clear. as he should. she zeros in on the way his grip tightens around yours, again, cozily touching you as if you were his.

a quirk of her brow suggests ire. “glad to see you, leon. to think, after all this time, you’re still such a lucky man. who would’ve thought she’d end up being your partner?”

the two of them stare each other down with such intensity you wonder what other history they share aside from you. tension seeps into the chill of the nighttime air. leon’s coiled up so tightly it raises worry, and you find yourself wrapping your arms around his bicep to placate him. for all you know, the mysterious plagas infecting him could thrive off stress, and he’s already had plenty of that so far.

almost immediately does your touch have him redirecting his notice towards you. his intense gaze softens at your pretty eyes studying him. his broad shoulders gradually relax in your embrace. he’s visibly calmed by the simple act, much to ada’s amusement — and her vexation. her fingertips dig into her palms, wishing it was your hands beneath them instead.

“ada, why are you really here?” you inquire, and she’s pleased when you finally set sights back on her. she’s not fond of the questioning, however. she purses her lips. her expression morphs into a cautious neutral. you’re aware you won’t be getting a direct answer, no matter how much she likes you.

ada sighs, “oh, sweetheart. you know i don’t work and tell.”

guarded, she saunters to the opposite end of the room to the very window she slithered in through, overlooking the bleak scenery with little interest. you slip past leon to follow after her, grasping her fingers to keep her from going any further. pleasant warmth seeps through from your fingertips to hers. there’s no time to relish it, although she longs to feel more. calculating eyes regard you and you alone.

“leave the girl,” demands ada. “she’s lost no matter what. you walk away now…and who knows? maybe you’ll live to meet me again.”

keeping her eyes locked on yours, she brings your hand to her lips, and presses a languid kiss across your knuckles. a stain of red now marks you as hers. play glimmers in her irises. “…maybe i’ll even take you on that date i promised.”

“you think we’re gonna give up that easy?” leon’s voice cuts in, weighed with barely contained venom.

“right.” ada exhales a laugh. how true. the two of you really are perfect for one another. hearts of gold, heads full of dreams. she turns towards a silently seething leon, whose eyes pierce her every move. he does a poor job at hiding his envious glare towards your entwined hands. “how about we continue this discussion another time?”

she drops your hand unceremoniously, in favor of pressing a kiss to your cheek. the pulse of your racing heart is nearly tangible. such a sweet girl, flustered by a simple kiss. longing parts her lips in their journey up to your ear to whisper, “stay safe, beautiful.” she pulls away with an air of nonchalance, committing to memory the clear look of shock she’s frozen you into. it takes all she has not to go back in for another kiss, for there’s no knowing where her lips will land if she does.

“keep her safe for me, will you, leon? she’s really quite precious, you know.”

and just like that, she’s gone.

you nearly stumble towards the creaking window for a vain glimpse into the night she’s disappeared through. half shocked, half mortified of your audience still gaping at you, you could only hope he wasn’t put off by the instance of his flirty adversary. or the fact you had no quarrels in encouraging her.

a hand wraps around yours, warm and tight.

“careful. leaning out a little too far there, don’t you think?”

leon sounds rather relieved now that it’s back to being the two of you. ada must’ve been a sore sight for whatever reasons he’s held within. you avoid his eyes to recollect yourself, murmuring apologies beneath your breath.

then, a touch upon your cheek, the very one she’d kissed, puts a stop to all thoughts. your eyes flutter up towards leon’s. his usually somber expression has turned sour, scowling and scorned in a way you’re unfamiliar with. his hand cups your face, thumb frantically rubbing off what must be a lipstick stain ada’s left behind. the intensity of his eyes only adds to your embarrassment, makes you wish he hadn’t seen her in the first place. maybe then he wouldn’t be upset, angry with the ghost of her presence.

“here i thought luis would be my only problem.” leon mutters, so softly you’d mistaken he’d spoken at all. when he notices the shift in your pretty eyes, the sweetsoft concern that struck him weak, his gaze mellows instantly, and he blinks rapidly as if coming out of a daze. rose pink springs across his face in a blooming blush, a bigger surprise than his supposed anger. he rips his hand away upon realizing himself, leaving you curious.

“i mean—i meant, she’s the last person i expected to run into here. it’s—it’s a long story. won’t bore you with it. just know she’s probably not worth trusting completely. it’s best you’re careful around her. i’d hate…i wouldn’t want you hurt.”

his voice goes quiet at the end. his head is turned away, body tight and tense, hands fiddling with the holsters of his weapons. it isn’t like leon to speak so personally. so openly about his emotions. and you know it isn’t because of ada’s mere presence, what must be a recollection of the past.

you touch your cheek, still warm from his skin.

“you’re the one i trust, leon. we came here together, and we’re leaving together. i’m with you until the end.”

courage overtakes bashful notions. you close in beside him, reach up to push a lock of his hair behind his ear. cup his shying face, a tender encouragement to share his vulnerability with you. leon’s eyes fall back on yours too easily, too swiftly for a simple friendship. you see it; he is incapable of masking it.

it’s somewhat of an honor he’s so fond of you. it’s a reminder to be gentle with his feelings, though you yourself may not have yours sorted out just yet. but it is ascertained that you care immensely for him, perhaps in the way he’d like you to. perhaps not. there’s plenty of time to work things out.

“i’m with you, ace.” you smile, tugging his cheek until he returns one of his own. “there’s no one else i’d rather have beside me. got it?”

leon nods, convinced. “yeah. thanks.”

you pay a playful pat to his cheek, satisfied with his answer. “good, good. now, why don’t we get moving? we wouldn’t want to keep miss ashley waiting. what were we even looking for in the first place? some kind of key?”

the mention of the mission reinvigorates him. “yeah, exactly. should be somewhere around here, if you can help me look.”

“sure! let’s just hope we can get by without someone interrupting again.”

“wouldn’t that be nice.” scoffs leon, slipping his fingers through yours to lead you back towards the other half of the room. this habit of wanting you close was really too cute. willingly do you allow him to take your hand as he pleases.

all the while you will your heart not to flutter at the lipstick still staining the other, red on red alike.

#resident evil 4 imagines #re4 imagines #resident evil imagines #re imagine #resident evil x reader #re4 x reader #ada wong imagines #ada wong x reader #leon kennedy imagines #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x reader #i’m so glad i finally wrote this LET’S GOOOO #i. am. SICK. so sick of being “jealous” of ada in fics. like…yall see her too right? she’s gorgeous and morally ambiguous right???#so why can’t she flirt with ME?? why be jealous when we can be in LOVE??? why not let her desire ME carnally for once?? leon? i hardly know #anywho. jealous ada + reader fics just don’t mesh w/ me personally!! perhaps because i’m not a naturally jealous person haha #but ada and leon being incredibly jealous of each other + fighting over us though? hell yeah sister

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lovebugism · 1 year

Note

Congrats on 6k!! 🎉 You deserve it and plenty more! ❤️

This one is slightly different but mutual pining office romance with modern Steve? Some inspo like “I got a coffee and muffin for you because I noticed you haven’t left your desk all morning”, teasing jokes, tension in the elevator, the a/c in the office doesn’t work and it’s the middle of summer 👀

18+ (ish)

It was Casual Friday on a Tuesday.

The air conditioning went bust building-wide, and the stuffy businessmen on the fiftieth floor decided to be lenient about the dress code for the time being. Of course, that still meant everyone had to work in ninety-degree temperatures with little to no relief, but at least Steve could see you waltz around in a pretty little tank top and pencil skirt.

“I’m pretty sure there’s a policy against showing your shoulders, sweetheart,” Steve jokes to announce his arrival as he walks into your office.

Jolted from your stupor at the printer, your head whips over your shoulder. You find the boy in his usual white button-up, unclasped to reveal his ribbed undershirt with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. Sweaty honey hair pushed back over his forehead, the underside of his glasses slightly fogged.

He sits a white paper bag and a cup of iced coffee on your desk.

You smile, warmed by his presence in a way that’s far more tolerable than the heat wave.

“I’m pretty sure that’s because Mr. Harrington knew his son wouldn’t be able to keep it in his pants otherwise,” you squint at him, still grinning.

“Well, I must say, you are far sexier than balance sheets.”

You giggle like a schoolgirl when his broad arms wrap around you from behind. His lips sprinkle chaste kisses to the sticky skin of your bare shoulder. You can feel him smiling against you.

When you turn around to return the favor, you notice that the blinds of your office are still open — leaving the both of you on display to the entire rest of the floor you manage. They’re all too busy with their own work and too plagued by the heat to notice, but you pull away from Steve and his kisses anyway.

“You didn’t shut the blinds, you dork!” you scold, pushing your hand against his chest as you step back like he’s burned you.

Steve laughs. “C’mon. Nobody’s looking. I can kiss you.”

You’re not swayed by the wide palms he slides on your hips.

“Not until you shut the blinds and lock the door,” you scowl sternly, using your uncowed, badass businesswoman voice that always makes his knees buckle.

And even though he thinks twisting the slatted curtains closed is far more suspicious, he listens to you anyway. It’s the least he can do to make his girl feel comfortable — to make her less tense and more receptive to his touches.

Your concerns aren’t totally unfounded. You’ve told him a million times why you don’t want to make your relationship public. “I’d be dating my boss’s kid, Steven,” you’d gripe. “All my accomplishments stop meaning something after that.”

You started out on the second floor in the mail room, spent a year slaving over the books in the dim eerie hall of the seventh, and then got promoted to floor twenty-five after a particularly lucrative sale. You worked your ass off and it left you much more concerned about your position in the firm than most people tend to be.

You were halfway to the top. The very first woman to run this whole floor.

And you loved Steve, just not enough to throw all that away.

“Happy now?” he singsongs as he locks the door with a low click.

With your bottom lip between your teeth, you nod.

Now you can ogle him without fear of someone noticing, touch him all over without someone reporting it to H.R.

He looks far too sexy than what should be allowed — in his loose slacks, glasses perched on the bridge of his strong nose, chest hair poking out from the collar of his tank top.

Screw the shoulders, Steve’s body should be a company-wide violation.

Propped up on your desk, the boy settles between your thighs — spreading them slightly with his hips and making your skirt ride up. His wide palms settle on the outsides of your bare knees. Your hands rise to cradle his scruffy jaw, pulling him down for a much needed kiss.

His lips on yours are as all-consuming as the humidity surrounding you.

Your mouths click wetly when they part.

You smile at each other like two lovesick idiots.

“What’s in the bag?” you wonder, nodding your head to the paper sack beside you and the iced coffee already melting next to it.

“A blueberry muffin and one of those bagels you like,” Steve answers, big hands squeezing your thighs. “‘Cause I know you haven’t eaten all morning.”

“I’ve eaten!” you protest half-heartedly.

“Yeah?” he challenges. “What.”

“…An apple slice from the platter we had in the meeting room.”

A laugh rumbles in his chest. “That so does not count. You gotta eat better, babe. Alright? Especially in this heat. Can’t have you passing out at the copier or something.”

“Well, that’s why I have you, right?” you retort, arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer. This heat wave’s no match for the fire that sparks between the two of you every time you touch. “So you can bring me breakfast and feed it to me when you know I’m too busy to eat.”

“Why would I feed it to you?” he chuckles in a scoff.

You shrug. “‘Cause you love me.”

“…Touché.”

“What about you, Stevie?” you lilt, almost teasingly. “Have you eaten today?”

“I bought me something when I stopped at the café for you, but… I could always go for another bite.”

You grin wide like a mischievous cat. It would be alarming how quickly the air between you can turn from innocent to sinful if you weren’t already so turned on. You’ll just blame it on the heat for now.

“I bet you worked up a real appetite in this heat, huh?” you ask him, feigning sympathy, as the tip of your nose brushes his own. His breath fans against your mouth. You can already taste the coffee on him.

“Yeah,” he huffs lowly. “Definitely.”

“Maybe I should give you something else to eat…”

Your eyes flutter shut when his hand trails between your thighs to cup your pussy over your cotton underwear. Your neck becomes free real estate for his mouth when your head tips back. His thumb rubs your clothed clit. He can feel a damp patch already starting to form.

“Let me clear off your desk, baby,” he slurs into your pulse, smearing his spit there. “Need you to ride my face…”

“Shit, Steve—”

A knock at the door pierces the silence made velvet by sweet nothings and heavy breaths. Both of you freeze in shock, still clutching onto each other, like if you stay still enough whoever’s behind the door will leave.

“Who is that?” Steve murmurs to you, his eyes trained on the shined shoes behind the sliver of space beneath the door.

“I don’t know…”

“Steve? Are you in there?” Mr. Harrington’s voice comes muffled as the door handle jiggles. “When I told you to be fast. I meant fast. I need you for another errand.”

“Oh, shit,” you swear, breath caught in your throat. “Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit—”

“It’s okay,” Steve whispers sharply back to you. He inches toward the locked door.“Just… Just be cool.”

“Steve Harrington—”

“It’s fine.”

“—Don’t you dare open that door.”

He swings it open anyway. His father stands before him, looking just like his son but a few decades older and not nearly as pretty. He scowls. “Care to tell me what the door was locked?” he deadpans.

You’re glad he’s not looking at you for an answer. You wouldn’t have been able to lie like Steve does. It comes rather effortlessly to him because he’s done it all his life.

“I was bringing her breakfast, remember? Like I told you. And then we just started talking, you know? I can be a real blabbermouth sometimes.”

“Don’t I know it,” Mr. Harrington monotones. By the time he pokes his head around the doorway to your desk, you’ve already rid yourself of any evidence that you might’ve been kissing his son. His stern expression never wavers. “Both of you. Come with me.”

You nod like you’re happy to do it, swallowing down the inkling that you’re about to get fired that rises like bile in the back of your throat.

Like cows to the slaughter, you and Steve trail behind his father as he leads you through the twenty-fifth floor and to the elevators. Steve tries to grab your hand in a feeble attempt to comfort you. You jerk away from him, not wanting to be caught being so unprofessional a second time.

The elevator is quiet and stiff with sweltering heat. Mr. Harrington presses the button for the fiftieth floor.

“Um… Can I ask where we’re going?” Steve answers when the doors shut.

“I’ve got a big client coming in and want you two to sit in on the meeting. I think it could be very beneficial for you both,” he answers, still monotone, but obviously not angry.

Your chest deflates with a sigh of relief.

The man’s hands are tucked neatly behind his back. His eyes stay locked on the digital inclining numbers below the ceiling — 28, 29, 30…

“I want you to clean up in the bathroom before you go in, too. You’ve both got lipstick smeared on your chin.”

Your heart sinks all over again.

Mr. Harrington turns to his son, still as stern as ever but with a foreign glint in his eye. It borders on playful. “And if you run off my best accountant, Steven, I’m booting you back down to the mail floor.”

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #stranger things smut #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #stranger things #steve harrington #st drabbles #stevie drabble #office!steve

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minghaoslatina · 1 month

Text

1:03 pm ✰ WOOYOUNG

now playing 🎧 sure thing by miguel

You carefully make your way through the aisles of the cozy bookstore where you work. As you scan each shelf, you can't help but feel a sense of pride and ownership over the store. You've worked hard to ensure that every book is neatly organized and properly placed, and the result is a beautifully curated collection that any book-lover would appreciate.

Your passion for literature shines through in everything you do, and you're always eager to share your thoughts and opinions on your favorite books and movies. However, there are times when you worry that you might be too talkative, especially when meeting new people. But all those concerns fade away when you're with your boyfriend, Wooyoung. He adores your chattiness and always encourages you to be yourself.

As you navigate towards the classic section of the bookstore, you spot your all-time favorite classic, Little Women, and decide to take it out for a nostalgic read. In the process, you catch sight of a familiar mole near someone's eye and squint your own eyes to get a better look through the gap between books. Your heart skips a beat in surprise and delight as you realize the person on the other side is none other than your boyfriend, Wooyoung.

"Wooyoung?" you giggle, not expecting to see him here.

"Hi beautiful," he smiles and disappears from view, heading around the corner to greet you properly. Your heart flutters with excitement as you realize he's come to surprise you. As he approaches, you notice he is holding a brown paper bag and a steaming cup of coffee. Before you can even question him about why he's here, he wraps his strong arms around your waist and pulls you close, planting a sweet kiss on your lips. You can't help but smile back at him like a schoolgirl in love, feeling grateful for this unexpected moment together.

Unable to hide the adoration in your eyes, your heart races as you ask, "What are you doing here? I thought you had practice?"

Wooyoung releases his grip on you and shows you the contents of the paper bag and coffee cup he's holding, "I stopped by your favorite café to grab lunch for you. I know how much you love this place, and I wanted to make sure you ate well. Plus, I really wanted to see you." You can't help but feel touched by his thoughtfulness and attention to detail. Moments like these remind you why you fell in love with him in the first place.

"Aww, Woo, you're the best boyfriend ever," you say as Wooyoung lets out one of his signature giggles. Your words seem to have made his day as he grins widely and pulls you into a warm embrace. You can feel your heart racing as he holds you close, and you quickly set down your lunch in your book cart to focus on him entirely. You lean in to kiss him all over his face, savoring the feel of his skin against your lips.

Despite your love for books, you realize that there is something even more important to you.

"I love you, Wooyoung."

"I love you more, angel."

🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

a/n 💌

hi :)) this is my first time writing fan fiction so I’m sorry if it’s bad 😅🥲 I am currently writing a one-shot for seonghwa, but I don’t think it’s any good 😭 I might post it on Friday 👀 let me know ur thoughts 💭 <3

#wooyoung x reader #wooyoung #wooyoung ateez #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez timestamps #ateez wooyoung #wooyoung x y/n #wooyoung x you

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themotherofhorses · 1 year

Note

Hi author first of wanted to say I love your work !

I'm not sure if you take requests so if you don't feel free to delete this 💛

Modern spy Aemond x naive reader [ Aemond meets her when he's on a mission and becomes obsessed with her how can someone be so sweet and innocent !? He just has to have her also baby trapping and smut if you're comfortable writing it ]

follow me now, and you will not regret (leaving the life you led before we met)

pairing: modern spy!aemond targaryen x naive!reader

warnings: explicit language. stalking. very much nsfw smut. once again, aemond is an obsessive and pussywhipped little bitch with zero thoughts within his pretty knocker. manipulation. innocence kink. breeding kink/baby trapping at the end.

notes: hi, yes, this is me coursing through uncharted and absolutely fucking rough waters in some attempt to spice up my usual smut writing style

(aka me practicing for the next chapter of my modern series)

masterlist

A career life built solely around espionage (or a sort of black shadow warfare mixed with cold combat) came dirty, bloody, and uncertain.

Or, at least, that was what Aemond “The One-Eyed White Death” Targaryen would tell himself on the daily, in some attempt at justifying the ends to the means. Really, this entire situation could have been a lot worse, he thought- after all, the lives of countless innocent civilians could have been caught within his crosshairs. He hated when that happened; it was always so messy, and came with heavy and boring paperwork.

However, that was not the case this time, thankfully.

It was only one innocent civilian in his hands, and she was still safe and sound.

Aemond had never meant to stick around the city for so long, having other missions queued up after this one, but fuck…you were perfect. Godsent, the prettiest and most delicious slice of heaven above, and he did not consider himself a godly man, nowhere near in the slightest. The gods loathed his type, he knew, and never hesitated in casting them all down to the pits of hell.

But you…

He had met you during the mission, while stuck undercover at some random little café on the corner street. The boss sent him to stake out some old-money and big-named crime mobster that was allegedly dealing weapons and various drugs under the noses of local law enforcement, a suspect on their “Most Wanted” board. And you- well, you were tucked away in a small booth, hunched over two thick college textbooks while multiple paper assignments laid strewed across the table top, so unaware of his presence sitting tables away on the other side of the room.

Gods, you were absolutely gorgeous, he thought. So fucking pretty, with those eyelashes and charm bracelet and focused look on your face. It made him forget all about his original mission. Fuck that, he has a new one now. And there was the cutest pout on your pink and glossy lips that made his cock harden, despite not having the faintest clue on what your name could be.

(That itself was no concern of his, he could find it out later in the evening. And he eventually did.)

You were there at the café the following day, and the day after that. Always with your head in those damn school books, his pretty and dutiful schoolgirl. The sight made him chuckle, and smile, and fill with the strongest urge to ruin you completely with his mouth, and fingers, and cock. On the fifth day, he finally decided to step up to your table, interrupting your usual study schedule with a shy smile and your favorite drink in hand, as well as a chocolate chip cookie.

“I- uh, I hope you don’t mind, miss,” he said, feigning bashfulness, “but I’ve seen you around everyday for this past week and thought, maybe, you wouldn’t mind being friends? I’m new in town, actually…and- well, I don’t know a lot of people around here…” he added, watching your pretty eyes widen.

And, fuck, your lips were glossy again, and he stood there (like a complete idiot) wondering what flavor they could possibly taste like.

Cherries?

Strawberries? Blueberries?

Maybe mimosa or peppermint patties?

“Oh, well, of course! I don’t mind whatsoever,” you replied cheerfully, rousing butterflies in Aemond’s stomach. “I’d be happy to be your friend,” and you patted at the spot next to yours, slugging away your tote bag and books so that he could sit down, and you could introduce yourself.

Hook, line, and sinker.

Aemond became your friend, first. The easiest way to manipulate your unsuspecting victims? Through trust and friendships, per the teachings of his old childhood mentors back at the academy. Throughout the next month, he bought you hot chocolate and matcha tea lattes, joined you in quick lunch dates, insisted on driving you to your college classes, and went with you to the little bookstores scattered across the city. It was fun…and torturous- utter torment and near physical agony- because all he wanted to do was fuck your pretty pussy until you could no longer remember your name and your cunt was to the shape of his own cock.

He would sit beside you in the café booth, listening as you drone on and on about your favorite, most passionate subjects, all while trying to desperately hide the boner in his jeans and rid his mind of such dirty thoughts and fantasies. There was no use, though. Aemond was fucked, too addicted and obsessed.

He wanted you, now and forever.

But that was not the worst part. The worst part was that you had not the smallest clue of what you were doing to him. You were just his sweet companion, his dear friend, too innocent and naïve to both the world and the waking beast deep within him.

He often followed you back home, to that tiny apartment near the college. Aemond swore it was because he wanted to make sure you were safe and protected from any of his enemies, anyone daring to steal you away from him, but he knew it was more due to the chances of seeing you undress and shower and decide which nightie you would wear to bed. And, sometimes, he got treated to his sweet girl trying to touch herself. It was so cute, so endearing, to watch you slip a hand between your thighs only to pause because you had no idea of what to do, and how to fuck your own fingers inside your cunt until you came.

Poor, sweet girl of mine, Aemond shook his head, tutting. Alone and in need.

How could someone so pretty, such a fucking cock-tease, be so innocent and untouched, so stupid and unknowing to everything sexual?

It did not make any sense to him.

Maybe you were made for him, and only him, and this was the gods’ gentle way of telling him to change his ways before it was too late. Leave behind this career of his, wash away all the red staining his ledger and hang up his callsign, all so he can start a family with you. The family he needs, the one he deserves.

Yes, he thought, that makes more sense. You need him the same way he needs you.

And, really, who was he to ignore the gods above? Aemond himself was no godly man, it was not in the nature of a spy like him- but for you, perhaps the fates might allow it.

Two months later, after a dinner date, Aemond has you pressed against your apartment’s door, his mouth frantically devouring yours in a fervent and wet kiss. It has been so long, so torturous, weeks after weeks of constant late-night jerking off to your pretty pictures and those blue-laced panties he managed to slip from your bedroom that one afternoon and pretending that all he wants to be is your friend.

You are so beautiful, so stunning, especially within this very moment, chest heaving out heavy breaths while you peer up at him as if he is a god.

He grabs at your face, a rough grip on your chin. “Tell me you want it tonight,” he demands, his lips near your ear. You shiver and clutch at his arms, so close to melting into nothing but putty in his hands. “Want what, Aemond?” you ask innocently, batting your dark eyelashes up at him. Fucking cock-tease. He chuckles while trailing light kisses along your jawline and down your neckline, mouthing at your nape and clavicle. You mewl at the feeling. “Please- please, don’t stop…”

“Do my kisses feel good, baby?”

“Yes,” you sigh out, tangling your fingers within his silver hair, “it feels amazing.”

He smirks. “It will feel a whole lot better in a little while, I promise you, sweet girl. But I need to ask…do you trust me?” You nod frantically, leaning up to kiss his lips. “Of course, Aemond. You are my dearest friend! I trust no one more than you.” Aemond just laughs at your words, yearning so badly to tell you that- by the end of the night- your cute ass will no longer be ‘just his friend’ but something much more, definitely.

But where is the fun in that?

“Good, good. Just relax and enjoy everything, okay?”

Aemond then pushes you back against the door, quickly slipping off the pretty floral top you wore and groaning at how your lacy bra cupped your breasts perfectly. Where have you been all my life? He thinks while snaking his hands around your back to unhook your brace and toss it somewhere over his shoulder, too busy salivating over your free and ample breasts and perky nipples.

“Fuck, look at you…so fucking gorgeous,” he mumbles, kneading at your breasts. You stiffen, flushing under his heavy gaze before moving to cover yourself up, feeling a little self-conscious. Aemond shakes his head, gently tugging your hands back to your side. “No, don’t you dare cover yourself up, baby. Not in front of me.” His fingers pinch your nipple, cause your back to arch. “I’ll never understand why no one has ever devoured this pretty body. Gods, look at these tits. You’re so beautiful, baby, a fucking wet dream come true. Mmm, yeah, bet they’ll taste delicious,” and he wraps his lips around a nipple, sucking it into his mouth.

You’re delicious here, and Aemond knows you will be even more down there. His poor cock, still tucked inside his pants, feels like it is weeping, too impatient and irritated and ready to ruin you. His hand slides down your belly to rest on your hipbones and thighs, fingers ghosting around your panties.

“Ohhh…” you gasp out, biting at your bottom lips when his hand slips in.

“Fuuckk,” he drawls out against your breast, thrusting a finger into your wet cunt. “Gods, you’re so fucking wet down here. Absolutely soaking, poor baby.” Aemond strokes your slit a few times before rubbing your clit with his thumb, hearing the way you whine and shake at his actions. “I can’t wait to be inside you, fucking you till all you can think about is me.” He continues his thrusting, watching how your pretty face scrunches in sheer pleasure.

“Are you enjoying this, baby?” he asks, humming. “Do you want me down there tongue-fucking you? Hmm? Oh, wait, my sincere apologies, pretty girl, you probably don’t even know what that means.”

You moan, loud and high-pitched, teeth still chewing on your bottom lip. At your silence, he spanks your ass, causing you to lurch up with a massive gasp. “Use your fucking words, sweetheart. I don’t care for silence, especially from you.”

The more you remain quiet, he thinks, the more spanks you’ll receive.

Eventually, you fling your head back, bumping it against the door. “Okay, yes! Please! Please, Aemond…!”

Grinning, Aemond stands up and draws his lips back to your ear, saying slowly, “Spread those legs then, baby girl, right now.” When you do so, he sinks down to his knees, both hands gently clutching your thighs, “Yeah, that is a good girl. My pretty, good girl of mine.” He moves his face to the front of your pussy, “Can you feel my breath against this pretty clit? Are you waiting for me to devour this pussy? Tongue-fuck you until you’re a stupid little mess? Tell me, baby.”

He then blows against your wetness, ignoring how you jolt hard at the feel. And I’m not taking no for an answer,” he adds before slinging a leg over his shoulder.

“Oh gods, yes, please,” you whine, jerking your hips up against his face. Aemond slaps your asscheeks hard- once, twice, three, four times. “Beg, my pretty baby. C’mon, I know you can do it. Beg for my tongue, beg like you mean it, you stupid and horny little slut.” Your eyebrows furrow at his words and you whimper. “Don’t be mean to me…” you whisper, trying to blink away tears.

Aemond raises an eyebrow. “Oh, you thought that, because this is your first time, I would be nice? My sweet summer girl, you teased me enough these past several months, and I’m done playing nice. Now, tell me you want this. Tell me you want me to claim this pussy as mine.”

Your wanton cries are everything he needs in this life, he soon realizes. If he can spend the rest of his days with his face buried deep between your thighs, he swears he’ll die a happy and satisfied man. The way his name glides off your tongue is incredibly, completely wonderful, and his mind fills with various fantasies and all the positions he will soon have you in, helpless and dripping like a whore in heat.

His pretty whore, forever and always.

“Fuck, baby, who am I to deny you such?” Aemond buries his face between your trembling thighs, inhaling your mouth-watering scent one final time before slipping his tongue inside your wet folds. “You taste so fucking good, baby- shit, you’re leaking all over my face,” he moans amid long licks, fucking you both with his tongue and fingers.

“Oh, gods! Oh- oh- oh…!” You shriek, both legs buckling as your hands clench into tight fists. All of your little moans and whimpers, those pathetic pleas and begs, they all send more blood rushing to his cock. You don’t recognize the early grave you’re digging at, too overtaken by the pleasure.

“So fucking tight against my fingers. How the hell will you take my cock, baby? Fuck, I’m going to destroy you.”

You moan again, in such a loud and lustful cry that causes his resolve to only weaken faster.

“Oh! Oh, Aemond, this feels so good! Please- please, don’t ever stop,” you wail, fat tears gushing down your cheeks. This pleasure, it is a feeling like nothing before, not even coming close to those few times you made some sad and futile attempt to touch yourself, too confused on how to deal with those strange tummy butterflies that seemingly hatched from their cocoons the day you meant Aemond.

How thankful you are that you met him.

Your body squirms every couple seconds, only to wince when he spanks your ass hard again.

“Shut the fuck up,” Aemond hisses without venom. He is too much in love with you for poison. “Do you wish for your neighbors to know that I’m fucking you right now? What would they think? The pretty and sweet girl that lives here, too innocent and naïve for this damn world, letting a man eat her out like a whore.”

You shake your head again, eyes puffy and red from all the tears. “N-no, Aemond…” you stutter out.

Aemond pauses his fingers, now curious to see how far he could go with this new type of torture. But it is not long, though, before you buckle against his hand, your bruised and swollen chest pushing up with stiffened nipples. And your body, it soon tightens as your flustered face screws up in that telltale sign that you are only seconds away from cumming. The scene is beautiful, very much so, and he feels pride that it is all from his own doing.

Yet he drags himself back up on his feet, removing his fingers from your cunt before you could cum. Perhaps it is a bit too cruel on his part, but Aemond could care less; he wants you to cum on his cock for your first time.

There will be many more times of this, he wants to reassure you. He doesn’t, though.

You’ll find out on your own time.

You gaze at him through bleak and narrowed eyes as he unbuttons his pants and shoves them down to his ankles. “You poor, poor little thing,” he tuts, running a gentle hand through your damp hair, “-are you tired? You look tired, but from what? You didn’t even cum once!” He pats your cheek, “Don’t worry, my sweet girl, you’re about to. Can’t tell you how many times, but it’ll be a lot.”

And Aemond does not wait for your response, instead snatching your hand and pressing it against his boxers. “Can you feel that, baby? That is my cock. Can you feel how hard it is? You did this, you made me so fucking hard that it hurts.” He clicks his tongue, shaking his head, “Now, that is not very nice, is it? No, no, no it is not. I thought you were a sweetheart…” He shoves your hand back, ignoring the small tears that gather in your eyes again.

“I’m sorry,” you croak, wiping them away. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Aemond! Please don’t be mad at me…please, how can I help you? I’ll do anything,” you pout as you watch him slip down his boxers. Your teary eyes grow as wide as dinner plates, and your breath hitches. It is so sexy to him, eating away at the little self-control he is trying to maintain.

You’re a virgin, he reminds himself. Soft and easy, my baby deserves that.

“Shhh, baby,” Aemond rasps out, cupping your face within his hand. He kisses your nose, cheeks, and forehead before finding your lips. “I’m not mad, really, my sweet girl. I know you meant no harm, you’re too sweet and good for that,” and he holds your face against him while readying to fuck you with his cock. He can feel your short pants, the little breaths you take, and how you shudder whenever his clammy skin meets yours.

“Relax your body, baby girl, don’t tense up. It will hurt less…good girl, that’s my good girl.”

Nice and slow, he chants as he slowly sinks into your cunt, groaning at the tightness, slow and nice. You whimper, eyes rolling back as begins his thrusts, slow and easy. I’m a gentleman.

Mother made me promise to be a gentleman.

I’m a gentleman. I’m a gentleman. I’m a gentleman.

But the look you are giving him, with your lips pink and puffy from the shit ton of kisses and bites, and the way your pussy clenches around his cock…it is causing him to forget all about how his mother indeed made him promise to be nothing short but a gentleman.

You’re too pretty for him not to devour, and…well, were you not made for him? The gods created you with the purpose of him eventually finding and caring for you, the way it should’ve always been- the way it will be for now on. His one good eye (the one those stupid bastards left alone back at the academy) watches as you shake and quiver and mewl out the sweetest and yummiest little moans.

The way you are right now, you’re just begging to be made into a new mother, and his mind goes insane at the sudden image of you heavy with his children, huffy and sore and always exhausted. It is delicious to think about. Aemond- truthfully- never really thought about kids, constantly busy with the espionage lifestyle and the back-to-back missions, but you…oh, he knows that, after tonight, you’ll have no choice but to remain by his side as the baby grows, needing him to protect and provide and shower you with love and affection.

He’ll be the best husband and father, and you his good girl- his precious slice of normality.

The way it should be, the way it will be.

It is half a year later that Aemond “The One-Eyed White Death” Targaryen finally connects back with his boss through a phone call.

Before that, he dropped off the grid, returning no calls and messages and signals, leaving everyone behind at the headquarters confused, concerned, and scratching their heads as to why their finest agent suddenly vanished without a trace.

He was not dead- they knew that. He was just…gone.

“What happened, agent?” The director asks, fiddling with his pen while another agent of his attempts to get some kind of reading on him. No luck; Aemond made himself untraceable. “Are you hurt, Aemond? Did someone threaten you? You left after I assigned you that mobster and- well, we assumed the worst, son.”

Aemond chuckles, shaking his head. “No, boss, do not worry about me," he says, "I’m good. Very good, in fact, the happiest I’ve ever been in my life, one might say.”

He leans against the doorway, arms crossing over his chest as he watches you flip through a baby store catalog and marvel at all the products they have for sale- the finest baby strollers, a variety of cribs, bassinets, and swing sets, and the cutest little animal plushies and clothing.

“Frankly, boss, I just grew tired of the spy life.”

“Is that so? And pray tell what you are now, Aemond One Eye.”

He smiles, eyeing your baby bump and how you are utterly glowing. “I’m a family man.”

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x modern!reader #aemond targaryen x you #modern!aemond #dark aemond targaryen #aemond smut #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond the kinslayer #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #hotd fanfic #request #vic writes 🧸

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itsmattchou · 1 year

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1 to 10, you make my heart flutter !

pairing: zb1 maknae line x reader warnings: rip to gyuvins friends, reader implied to be insecure sometimes in gunwooks, english isn't my first language!!! genre: fluff synopsis: just cute things the boys do in a relationship notes: bc my svt version of this got SO popular i wanted to make a zb1 version too 👍🏻 hope u enjoy this as much as you enjoyed like sweet chocolate ice cream

SHEN QUANRUI - writes you cute love letters. as tough and confident he may act around others, he's still just 'lovelicky' at heart. he has a lot of things he really wants say to you, so many adorable confessions of how you're able to make him feel all these fuzzy feelings he couldn't possibly say to your face because he'd get too shy. so he just writes it all down onto paper, every single word overflowing with sincerity. ricky decorates the letters with stickers and little doodles of any kind and just gives them to you whenever he feels like it.

KIM GYUVIN - talks too much about you. it's like the whole world knows that he's dating you. your relationship isn't even that public in a sense that you're constantly posting couple pictures,,, it's just that gyuvin doesn't shut up about you. he mentions you at least once in every single conversation he has. don't even try to tell some funny stories about your life to his family or friends when you're meeting them, they already know all the details. you got him some flowers? he already told someone you did that with the dreamiest smile on his face, giggling like a schoolgirl in love. gyuvin's head over heels for you, trust.

PARK GUNWOOK - pushes you to do your best. gunwook has so much trust in you and your abilities. you're insecure about your ability to do a certain thing? not on his watch. he's ready to hold a whole ass power point presentation on how you're indeed able to do it well. don't try to fight him on this, he's a debating master. not doing your best isn't even an option in this household. it may be annoying from time to time but in the end it's great to know there's someone who believes in you- even if you don't. you won the boyfriend lottery fr.

HAN YUJIN - takes interest in your interests. yujin really loves listening to you and vice versa. the two of you are constantly talking, giggling and gossiping about all kinds of topics. some people who don't know better would assume that you're only best friends. however, once you talk about something he doesn't know- let's say a show he hasn't watched yet- best believe he's watching it now. you tell him you like a particular game? yujin's playing it now and is down to play with you whenever you want to. that one singer / group you really love? he actually loves them too! everything you like he likes as well.

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dreamkidddream · 1 year

Text

Pulling Them in for a Kiss || Dazai, Gin, & Ango

It’s been too long since I wrote for BSD so please enjoy and reader is gender neutral!

CW: a teensy, tiny bit suggestive (tagging it just to be on the safe side)

Dazai

Dazai is usually the one to take initiative, and he’s very physical with his affections. He’s not afraid to hide it either, always planting kisses on you or pulling you into his arms at any moment

He’s not one to be caught off guard, and if he does it’s rare

He knew you were planning to do something when you approached him with a smile that seemed too sweet- but he’s curious to see what you’re trying to pull off. He won’t stop you

Just know that you’re playing a very dangerous game- and he isn’t one to lose

Dazai could feel your eyes on him, and he could picture the gears turning in your head. You’re obviously plotting something- but he’ll pretend to let you have the upper hand. Could this be revenge for the little stunt he pulled at your doorstep last night? More than likely, but he couldn’t help it- it was so fun to tease you and see your reactions!

An amused smile played on his lips as he thought about last night- how flustered you were getting from just a brush of his fingertips, the denial of it, how close he was to pressing his lips against yours…

It was a fun little cat and mouse game you both were playing. Even if you mistakenly thought that you were the cat, Dazai was still enjoying himself.

But he had to admit, his patience was starting run a bit thin at this game. And he was ready to be selfish-

“Dazai.”

“Hm?” You stood before him, arms crossed. You tried your best to not look bothered, nervous, but the way your fingers tapped away and the fidgeting that you’re trying to hide made it apparent that you’re planning something.

“Can you give me your report on the Hanako case? I’m ready to turn it in.”

“Well anything for you belladonna.” He collected the papers in one pile and held it out to you. He came off nonchalant, but he was watching your moves carefully- did you really think you could catch him by surprise? He couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought.

When your fingers brushed his for the papers, he let his touch linger as he spoke up. “That can’t be all that you came over here for, is it?”

He smirked as he heard your breath catch. You’re so easy to rattle.

“No, actually-“ You softly put the papers back down, a flash of determination crossed your face.

“I’m finishing what you started.”

You pulled him by his bolo tie and smashed your lips against his. Dazai’s own eyes were wide as yours was tightly shut.

For once, he was caught off guard, and by the time he started to melt into the kiss and move to wrap his arms around you, you had already pulled away.

You didn’t look him in the eyes as you grabbed at the papers again, clearing your throat. Seems that you were still processing what you did yourself, “Now, if you excuse me-“

Unfortunately, you weren’t fast enough.

You jumped when his wrist caught your arm, and you felt yourself being pulled back.

“Oh there you are-“

Kunikida stopped in his tracks, his words trailing off and a questioning look on his face.

You were trapped against Dazai’s chest, whose smile was unnerving and only making you sweat more.

Before Kunikida could even begin to ask what he was happening, Dazai was already pulling you away, claiming that there was a very important case that had to be solved that couldn’t wait any longer.

Gin

Gin’s senses are sharp- and they never fail her. Even when she’s not on a mission, she’s always aware of her surroundings, prepared for the moment when she needs to strike

But it still doesn’t stop her from getting flustered

Or rather- from you making her flustered

No one would have ever suspect that a high-ranking assassin like herself would be acting a schoolgirl being near her crush- and the same could be said for you

You love seeing Gin smile so much.

Honestly you just love seeing her.

She came off as delicate despite being able to easily end anyone with just a flick of her wrist. You would have never imagined that you would get this close to Gin- let alone fall in love.

Yet here you are, fingers itching to lace them with her own.

You chose a private space away from everyone else to watch the fireworks, high enough to get a good view and quiet to where you could admire her in peace. Just glancing at her now, raven hair cascading down her back with a soft smile with a glow from the flashing sparks- she always took your breath away, but this was to a new level.

And it awakened something in you.

“Gin.”

Her eyes flickered over to yours, and any hesitations that you had vanished in that very moment.

You clenched your fists and took in a deep breath, before willing yourself to grab at her hands.

She let out a small squeak, and could already see how flushed her cheeks were getting.

It was now or never.

Your eyes were shut tight when you pulled her forward and connected your lips.

Everything went still in that moment, and there were a million thoughts running through your head- how soft her lips were, how you can’t believe that you’re actually finally doing this-

When you pulled away, Gin’s face was completely flushed and head turned the opposite way. She couldn’t even look you in the eyes- not that you were brave enough to look at her either.

You were expecting her to move away and sprint to the other side, until you felt something on top of your hand-

You glanced down to see her fingertips meeting yours. You can see how they were slightly trembling, but she still laid them gently on top of yours.

Gin still wasn’t looking at you and vice versa, but it didn’t stop you from lacing your fingers together.

You both sat there gazing at the fireworks, while she gently gave your hand a squeeze.

Ango

Does Ango know anything besides work?

You’re a bit concerned- not only in how he works nonstop, but also in how little he was paying attention to you- it sounds petty, but it’s the truth!

It’s so easy for him to get consumed with his work with how much is weighing on his shoulders with his position, but you don’t want him to overwork himself either

Lucky for you- you knew how to make him take a break and a way for you to get your point across…

“Ango.”

“Just a second dear- I’m almost done with this report.”

You know that Ango has no simple job. The multiple hours that he puts into his work aren’t useless- it directly affects Yokohama, that much you know. But it wouldn’t do the city or Ango himself good if he keeps pushing him to the point of over exhaustion.

It’s been nights where he would tell you not to wait up on him and you do so anyway, seeing him crawl into bed mere hours before sunlight would come into your shared room. You were already concerned when it happened, and it only grew when it kept happening more.

There was to immediate threat that he had to focus on, yet Ango was never a procrastinator, already trying to be one step ahead of whatever problem would come next- which wasn’t bad, but it was when it was getting the way of his health and his relationship.

And desperate times call for desperate measures.

“Ango,” you placed your head directly in front of the screen and he jolted back. You took this moment of weakness to crawl into his lap, effectively straddling him.

Ango’s cheeks were progressively getting redder by the second, and the stutters that left his lips began to jumble together the more your hands trailed up his chest, reaching up to remove his glasses. You forgot how much you loved seeing him like this- seeing him unravel under your fingertips.

Before he could even try to understand what you were up to, you pulled him by his tie and locked lips with him.

His breath hitched and his eyes widened, hands hovering above your waist. You felt the tension in his body slowly leave as he sunk into the kiss, eyes closing and pulling you even closer.

When you both broke apart, you rested your forehead against Ango’s, who was panting lightly with his eyes unfocused. The tips of his ears were turning brighter (if that was possible), when you kissed him again.

“Come to bed with me?” You gave him another peck. “Please?”

“It- It is getting late, I could always finish this tomorrow.” He cleared his throat, trying to get himself composed again even if he was failing miserably.

Was it a bit of an underhanded tactic? Probably.

But you thought it was worth it when you were curled into Ango’s arms later on that night, both of you soundly sleeping.

#dream rambles about bsd 🐶🔍#bsd x you #bsd x y/n #bsd x reader #bsd x gender neutral reader #bsd dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #bsd gin x reader #bsd ango x reader #ango sakaguchi x reader #gin akutagawa x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader

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dmitriene · 7 months

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𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗚𝗛𝗧𝗦 𝗔𝗕𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗥𝗨𝗗𝗘 𝗛𝗨𝗕𝗕𝗬 𝗞𝗢𝗡𝗜𝗚.

❝𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗡𝗧❞ 𝘩𝘶𝘴𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘬𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘨 𝘹 𝘸𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘮 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 ❝𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗦❞ 𝘕𝘚𝘍𝘞, 𝘚𝘔𝘜𝘛, 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵, 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘳, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘯𝘹𝘪𝘦𝘵𝘺 𝘴𝘺𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘴, 𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘶𝘴𝘴𝘺 𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘳𝘶𝘥𝘦 𝘬𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘨, 𝘱𝘦𝘵 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3. ˑ༄

Colonel König — the man with whom you connected your already rather fragile life out of naive love, which resonated in your heart as if in the heart of an inexperienced schoolgirl, and he could not believe that for all the torments he had experienced in his life, he would receive such a charming wife, as you wanted to feel yourself, but there, in your chest, always been a conscious feeling that you were not his wife, but rather a trophy, a obedient doll for his collection that will begin and end with you, his liebe.

you know that he has an anxiety disorder, at least you haven’t seen any papers proving it, cause you shouldn’t worry your little beautiful head about it, you suspected that he had it from some fleeting signs — flashes of insecurity about his own appearance, he never didn’t directly tell you that he was ugly, but your charming pleas to look at him were cut off in a stern, emotionless tone — «there's nothing interesting under there», but he’s your husband, how can you not know what he looks like, apart from his emotional blue eyes?

König periodically experienced inexplicable fears and tension, whether it was provoked by the fact that he had to leave you at home alone to go to the store or leave you for a mission, he was accompanied by a bone crushing fear, because of which your every day was accompanied by the piercing eye of a camera in the corner of every room, you were embarrassed by the thought of being constantly watched like a rabbit in a cage, but rabbits are adorable and fragile, just like you, so he just has to make sure you're okay, ja?

only when he returns from a mission irritated and have had little sleep, which makes him practically fall over the threshold, and instead of greeting him like an obedient hase and beloved frau, you throw a tantrum about how tired you are of sitting home as if in a cage, pushing him into chest, screaming and sobbing that presses on his ears and makes veins bulge all over his body — he can't help but teach you some manners, can he?

᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌𐙚 .🐇

the room looks formless and dark before a damp haze before your eyes as the König's palm lands heavily on your naked flesh, the sharp crack of his palm slapping your ass echoes through the room, his touch is rough and unyielding, determined to stamp his frustration as he grabs and gropes, his rough fingers digging into your plush curves as your adorable panties are pulled down just enough to reveal the flushed, sensitive skin underneath, as well as your shamefully wet cunt, naughty, naughty bunny.

wide, rough fingers reach between your thighs, pushing through your wet folds, his touch is rough and unyielding as he explores, though rather punishes, your slippery cunt, next finding your sensitive bud, which he flicks with his nails and slaps with his fingers, rubbing it with tireless energy, from which waves of pleasure and pain run through your body, making you wail and receive another harsh slap, and any of your sweet pleas are useless — «kö.. könig.. i ca — hhhngh! can't-t, pleeasee»

his voice is ruthless and full of desire, you've never heard him so angry and cold as he croaks a mixture of hissing insults into your ear — «that's what you get for your attitude, undankbare schlampe, so accept and behave, dumb hase»

his fingers plunge deeper as soon as he finishes speaking, his movements becoming more aggressive, matching the primal hunger and anger raging inside him as his palm clanks again to your reddened plush flesh, fingers digging into the mark and making you scream, thick tears slip from the lash line and down the rosy cheeks while you moaning against his fingers that are curls up inside your drippy hole, maybe after this you will start to behave more obediently, dumm.

taglist: @roseglazedlens, @scar-crossedlvrs, @daydreamrot, @valsthearecs, @kennedyswhore-old dm me if you want to be tagged in my works or open my taglist

#[ ✒️july writing ]#konig x reader #konig smut #konig x female reader #konig cod #konig fluff #konig x you #konig mw2 #konig call of duty #konig fic #konig fanfiction #cod konig

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kits-sch · 3 months

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wish you were a boy

schoolgirl!ellie x reader

MEN DNI

this is such a rough draft, just a thought i had for a while now, if it’s shit plsdontkillme i Am just a girl 💔💔 very first ellie fic .. ooc ellie maybe idk actually. kinda corny close ur eyes

cw short, not very edited, kinda angst, internalized homophobia (?) on readers part.

you looked at the paper before you, a stark and bright red “3/20” on this bullshit math test glaring right at your face.

the teacher was useless, you thought. she did nothing to help, only rambling on and on about her failed, miserable love life. it seemed as if she became a teacher to have a free audience to vent to.

you were brought back out from your thoughts as you heard a familiar voice call out to you. it was your friend, ellie. you had known her for quite a while now, and you think you’ve lost track of how many years it’s been. she was wearing the schools uniform; long, plaid skirt with a white blouse. somehow, even in such a shitty uniform, she managed to look pretty.

“y/n? you alright there?” ellie took the empty seat next to you, her arm resting on her face as she stares at your paper. your eyes followed her intently. did her arm get more toned? has she been working out..?

“what a bust,” she chuckled at you, “i told you to come to me if you needed help.. now look what happened.”

right, how thoughtful of her. truth is, if you studied with her, the material would’ve been forgotten in mere seconds. even now, the only thing you can focus on is her face, the way her arm brushes against yours. your stomach often feels weird around her, as it would if you had a crush on someone. but ellie’s a girl.. and you couldn’t have a crush on a girl. that’s not how the world is intended, right?

“well, i thought i had it in the bag!” you argue back, scoffing at her, “i’m gonna need to retake this.. i swear it’s all that teachers fault.”

ellie smiles, “i’ll help you study this time, yeah? dont tell me no,” she says, her green eyes boring into your own.

“yeah, yeah..” you sigh, defeated.

ellie can only laugh at you again, observing your saddened state. suddenly, she gets an idea in her head and swiftly grabs your arm, pulling you out the classroom door.

“h-hey, ellie!” you yelp, your face feeling hot at the simple touch, “where are we going??” she doesnt bother to respond to you, dragging you along on this adventure of hers.

before you know it, you’re out in the courtyard of your school. it’s break time, and there’s many kids out on the field.. so you’re wondering what’s she’s going to do. but ellie keeps walking, until you reach a side on the field where no one is around. there’s a couple run down bleachers, and ellie finally lets your hand go — you can’t help but feel a little sadden at the loss of her touch. the brunette before you sits down, motioning for you to do the same. as soon as you do, she pulls you gently to lay your head on her lap.

“.. you’re weird,” it’s all you can say as ellie starts to softly play with your hair, you’re trying your best to ignore the thumping of your heart, the way you feel insanely flustered with her hands in your hair. her touch is so delicate, a feeling you’d like to cherish for a lifetime.

“what? you were obviously stressed. found this little spot a couple weeks ago and i thought of you. can you believe our school actually is capable of quiet?” ellie’s fingers continue to intertwine in your hair, she does it so casually.

the butterflies in your stomach seem to be circling around, and you’re trying, once again, to suppress the feeling. ellie and yours friendship is already being questioned by some of your peers. sure, friends can be touchy at times.. but it seems like whenever you and ellie are together; it’s as if you both replicate a couple who have grown old together.

your eyes rest on her face, and she’s not looking at you, but rather quite focused on your hair. you wonder if she’s trying to avoid eye contact with you as well. the freckles on her face have become a sight for sore eyes, you swore that if someone asked you how many she had you would be able to recite it from memory.

but you can’t allow yourself to feel this way. not in a town like this, not in a school like this, not in a life like this. loving anyone but a boy, a man, was disgusting, it was forbidden. it was a thought that was constantly pounded into your head, that it’s always supposed to be man and woman. you knew that.

ellie, now noticing your silence has her brows slightly furrowed — her eyes landing on yours, full of concern, “are you okay? you haven’t said a thing,” ellie has stopped playing with your hair, her sculpted hands now resting on the coldness of the bench.

there’s another small silence that embarks you both, and right as she’s about to open her mouth to speak again,

“i wish you were a boy.”

your voice was quiet, and the only thing you could hear was the background noise of the laughter of your peers as they were playing games. there’s a light, cold breeze that passes by the both of you, the leaves in the trees around you dancing slightly. your eyes don’t tear away from ellie’s; a bold thought that was meant to stay a thought had already been voiced. you don’t feel any regret, but rather your shoulders feel lighter as you look up at the girl before you; her mouth parted slightly and eyes now widened. your words are something that could be taken a couple different ways; but looking at her now, the way she knows your ins and outs, you know she perfectly understood what you were trying to say.

“you.. what?”

#ellie #ellie the last of us #tlou #tlou2 #ellie x reader #ellie williams #ellie x y/n #ellie x you #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x reader #tlou fanfiction #tlou part 2 #ellie smut #ellie smau #ellie angst #ellie fluff #ellie tlou

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postmodernbeliever · 2 months

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fox mulder nsfw alphabet (for female/feminine readers)

an a-z of what's it's like to be loved by fox mulder in allllll the ways you wish you could be.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

i’ve never made one of these before so i followed another post’s example! a lot of this is chubby-girl friendly but also works for any body type. also, i got carried away so enjoy how long this is LOL. <3

my ao3 | word count: 3,537

content tags: smut smut smut SO MUCH SMUT, dom fox mulder, soft fox mulder, nsfw alphabet challenge, lots of kinks but i don't wanna spoil you gotta read it :), mentions of period/period blood, cross-posted on ao3

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡

a: aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

he is sweet. like, really sweet. he loves to be gentle, to tell you how pretty you are and how good you did for him, praising you up and down and giving you lots of slow, adoring kisses. he also tends to get a bit bashful, because even if he just fucked you senseless you still give him butterflies; so often he hides his face in the crook of your neck or lays on your stomach, and talks quietly, like he’s shy. all his guards are down, and he is wholly dependent and doting on you.

actionwise, he cleans you up and helps you into some clean pajamas, but he usually leaves you bottom-less because you tend to be sensitive and the feeling of fabric between your legs can be an overload on your senses. but he covers you however he can, and he combs through your hair, gets you water, helps you get comfortable in bed. he’s so gentle it’s straight-up dreamy.

b: body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

on himself, fox likes his hands. he knows they’re pretty big, considering he’s a bit tall, and he thinks they look strong, but he takes more pride in them also being soft. he has some callouses, but the pads of his fingers are smooth. and when he met you, you told him how nice they looked and felt, and that won him over.

on you, he can’t pick between your love handles/waist and thighs. he loves to squeeze where you have the most skin, and both of those places are where your body curves. he loves your softer edges, and because his hands are big, he can grab a lot more of you. he also loves how you react to him touching you in these places- you’re sensitive there, and you shiver when he drags his fingers across you or grips you hard. your reaction plays a big part in favoriting those spots. (bonus: he loves your hands too, because they’re smaller than his and caress his face softly… and scratch up his back. we'll get to that later.)

c: cum (anything to do with cum)

you actually tease him about this a lot, because he gets really eager sometimes and can’t hold it in. he’s developed a routine where he takes his time with you and draws your pleasure out as long as he can because he knows the second he starts actually fucking you, he won’t last long; and he is so much more interested in letting you be the one who receives, he gets off on stringing you out. also, it takes you a while to cum, so his pleasure-driven role is that much more important to him, because he will not stop until you do. and he loves when you finally cum way more than when he does. he likes to taste you, and make you taste yourself when he kisses you with coated lips.

d: dirty secret

the night of the first day he met you, he had an insanely vivid wet dream about you. even having been with you intimately plenty of times now, he gets nervous to bring it up, because when you’re not around, he still draws on that dream to get off to. it's kind of his guilty pleasure. in it, you drag him into his office at work and let him eat you out on his desk, all over his files and papers. you were in a pleated schoolgirl skirt, and you kept it on for him to tug at. one day he’ll tell you (probably) and buy you a skirt, just so he can have the real thing.

e: experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

the majority of his experience comes from all the porn he’s watched. despite his drive, he was always the one to take it slow with past girlfriends, and either they didn’t stick around long enough to wait for him, or when he did sleep with them, he didn’t have enough practice to make it how they wanted it. but he paid attention to how girls like to be touched and fantasized about being good at those parts. when he met you, you were even more inexperienced than him, so everything he did was like heaven to you, and he only gets better each time. he feels lucky to have you to learn with because you’re patient and you love everything he does, so he doesn’t feel pressure.

f: favorite position

fox is somewhat old-fashioned. he loves missionary because it’s simple, and he can kiss you more that way, and it’s easy to be gentle or rough depending on what you both want. he also likes standing missionary for the same reason, particularly for times when you want him to be rougher. but the freaky part of him likes these because he wants to watch you surrender, to see all of you beneath him, powerless, as he brings you to climax. he wants to see your eyes haze over, how you struggle to speak while he pins you down. that way, you’re all his.

fox also really loves cowgirl, because he can still see all of you that way, but when you’re feeling particularly eager he likes letting you do the work. you’re still submissive even on top, because he needs to guide your hips and tell you to keep moving. he likes cowgirl even more when you ride him while he’s upright, like against the headboard or in a chair, because you bury your face in his neck as you work, and he loves being so close to you. plus, it took you little to no time to figure out exactly how to ride him right. and because he cums so fast most of the time, you usually ride him through his overstimulation, which puts him out of commission for the night. he can get obsessive about how good that one feels.

g: goofy (are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

he can be, because he’s naturally got a goofy streak. but unless you’re feeling giggly or playful, he just falls into that mode of being soft and dominant, talking dirty, and trying to fluster you.

h: hair (how well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

he keeps it trim just for hygiene, but you expressed a lack of concern for that, especially since you don’t always keep yourself trim either. it can be tedious to always be clean-shaven (and he doesn’t mind if you’re a little hairy, just like you don’t care if he is.) but, he does not touch his chest hair, because you are vehement that he keeps it.

i: intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

god, he is so intimate that it can leave you blushing for days after the fact. he does nothing but kiss and nip and lick, mouth and hands always on you; always whispering pretty things in your ears, dirty and gentle about how good you feel and smell and sound, about how pretty you look when he’s inside you. and innocent things, too. he tells you how pretty your tummy is, and your collarbones, every little part of your body gets admired. he tells you about how he loves your laugh and your smile, and how he's so lucky to have you all to himself. he takes every chance to make you feel cherished and important. he tells you how in love he is over and over like a mantra so that by the time he’s got you in the clouds, all you can think is he loves me, he loves me, he loves me…

j: jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he jacks off fairly often, but only because he’s usually thinking of you. if you’re not around or he’s away on a case, he gets needy and takes matters into his own hands, because he can’t help his dirty mind. he’s done it everywhere- his office, the work bathroom, in just about every room in his house. and, though he’d probably never admit it to you, he likes to hold your clothes sometimes when he does, because the smell of your perfume drives him crazy. he always takes something of yours when he goes away, just in case.

k: kink (one or more of their kinks)

okay, he’s got a few, but mainly because they’re kinks based on how you act or what he wants for you. so we’ll start with the kinks surrounding your pleasure:

obvious by now, praise. he loooves to praise. he’s crazy about you and how you make him feel, both emotionally and physically; he’s protective and loving, and he prizes you. he would make you cum just with words if he could. he adores pet names and anything he can call you, he will- princess, sweetheart, darling, honey, love, all of it. especially good girl, his personal favorite. he wants you to feel like the most special girl in the world because, to him, you are.

fox loves begging. he likes it for him, he likes to beg you for more, but he prefers when you beg. there’s something about watching you need him, and how your voice gets high-pitched and disgustingly lewd as you tell him what you want him to do. he loves being in control.

daddy!subspace. there are times when fox gets a little too into it, and you fall into a subspace. he loves this, especially yours, because you mix his name up with daddy, and every freudian instinct in his brain fires like crazy. he loves when you call him daddy, because that opens the praise door nice and wide, and he loves helping you come down after, because you get so flushed and nervous and you’re simply adorable when you need help speaking and asking for what you want.

now, fox’s personal kinks still have to do with you, but they're out of his own selfishness:

belly bulges. it’s no surprise because he’s so possessive, but something inside him snaps than when he takes your hand and presses it against the pudge of your tummy, where you can feel his cock poking against your walls. he loves being just big enough to fill you, and he loves how you go cross-eyed every time he does this, too- it’s just as hot for you as it is for him.

hands. he loves your hands and he wants them on him always, scratching him, marking his body with little red lines. they’re just small enough to make him feel big, and he loves your painted nails, too. he loves it when you pull on his shirt or his belt loops. he loves when you press them all over his face and chest because you don��t know what to do with them. he also loves to use his hands on you, to wrap softly around your neck and wrists, to pin your hips down, to push inside you; he has a penchant for sticking his thumbs in your mouth while he fucks you, too, because you always suck them like it’s your job. but there’s nothing like your hands on him.

here’s the big one: your period. fox likes making you a pillow princess, but he’s a monster when it comes to your period. you were worried when he said he didn’t mind the blood, but that first time he ate you during your time of the month was otherworldly. he loves the extra sensitivity you have, because it takes little to nothing to get you screaming, and some dark part of him loves to smear your blood all across his mouth and his chin. he loves to kiss you with those lips, leaving bloody prints up your stomach and chest, all over your neck and mouth. he craves the mess, the taboo nature of it all, and he loves how it’s a way of gently defiling you; mixing your blood with his spit, with his cum, it makes you his and him yours. maybe there’s a screw loose on his part, but if cannibalism didn’t mean you’d die, he’d fucking eat you whole. he even likes the taste. like i said, obsessive- but it’s kind of hot, isn't it?

l: location (favorite places to do the do)

honestly, anywhere. just the fact that you want him is good enough. he’s gotten you off in restaurant bathrooms, and at family homes during holidays when you just needed him and couldn’t wait. but he is partial to his couch or his bed because he likes having you all to himself in his own space.

m: motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

acting stupid. he loves when you ask him to explain things to you, even if you understand on your own, because he likes teaching you; he also gets all hot and bothered when you pout or frown, or bat your eyelashes innocently, saying “can you start at the beginning?” or “can you go a little slower for me?”. because he knows you’re smart and the slight frustration of you acting like you’re not mixed with the need to pamper you gets him going like crazy.

saying his name. if you call him fox, or sometimes foxie, he’s just about ready to fall to his knees. nobody calls him fox, so to hear you say it isn’t just intimate and special, but it’s also so sexy. you say it so many ways, but when you want him, he’s never liked the sound of it more.

his biggest motivation is your neediness. it seems that when you get going, you never want to stop. you want him to keep kissing, keep touching, keep licking, whatever it is you want more, and when you finish you want to start all over again because you get drunk on him- and that could keep fox going until he dies. he wants to give you everything you want, even if you never return the favor. he likes being yours to use.

n: no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

fox does not like to degrade you, which might be odd for a guy who’s so controlling and protective, but it’s not in his nature. he loves you. he cherishes you. he couldn’t tell you you’re dirty, or you’re a slut, or any of the terms that might get other people off, because he doesn’t believe them. he thinks you’re perfect, an angel, so good, and he only wants to remind you of those. he wants you to feel loved.

he also won’t hurt you. certain things he’ll do, like he’ll choke you or pin your wrists down, but he won’t be overly rough and he won’t leave bruises or make it hurt. you don’t fight back, so he doesn’t need to be anything other than assertive.

o: oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he prefers giving 100%. he likes it when you give him head because he likes seeing your pretty eyes look up at him, but he cums too fast to enjoy you doing it- plus, he can’t hear your noises when your mouth is full. he’d much rather just fuck you if he’s going to receive any pleasure. and god, is he good at it.

p: pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

he’s slow until he gets inside you. typically he likes to take his time on you, but when he starts fucking you, it starts to feel so good and you sound so pretty that he loses a little control and starts being rough. that part usually takes the shortest amount of time but it feels fantastic because he goes fast.

q: quickie (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

if you two are going to have a quickie, it’s going to be because you’re extremely horny in a place where he can’t take his time, and he simply can’t resist relieving you. but he really likes to be alone with you and go slow, draw it out as long as he can, and take good care of you. he wants sex to be special, he doesn’t want you to ever feel like it’s just a means to an end. sex is about love for him, not just a way to get his fix.

r: risk (are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

fox is willing to try anything, but you both are a bit vanilla, in that sense. you only need him to feel good, and he doesn’t want to restrain you from being able to move and moan and touch him. most of the experimenting is verbal- he likes to push how far he can tease, and how much he can say to get you there. the trend seems to be that the dirtier he talks, the more pleasure you feel, and he wants to max you out.

s: stamina (how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

he’s gotten better at lasting, but he can’t draw it out too long. he has a hard time stopping himself. but he can go a few rounds without getting tired or spending it all because of how eager he is to keep touching you, which is nice. that’s why he spends his time on you, because you can last longer, and he doesn’t need much.

t: toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

fox doesn’t have any toys. he is more than okay with you having them because if he’s not around, he can’t expect you to wait for him if you really need a release, and sometimes your hands aren’t enough. if he’s away on a case, sometimes he’ll call at night and talk you through it over the phone, so he at least has a little part in it. but he likes to be the one and only thing you can get it from when he’s with you, and so do you.

u: unfair (how much they like to tease)

oh, he loves to tease. he loves to talk and talk and talk, so much that sometimes you have to ask him to shut up and go faster. he wants to see you completely flustered from just his words, and honestly, he can get you halfway there on conversation alone. he knows just what to say, and how to say it, and it can be torturous, but you love it. and physically he teases, too, because he favors stringing you out. it can feel unfair at times, but you like it too much to care.

v: volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)

he has two sides. most of the time, he’s quiet, low, gruff; he grunts, he moans, sometimes growls if he’s really feeling possessive. but when he’s close, it turns into the most adorable whining. right in your ear, too. he pants and stammers, and easily gets overwhelmed. it’s not too high-pitched, but it’s needy and uncontrollable, and it sounds so, so pretty.

w: wild card (random headcanon)

fox never kisses and tells. he doesn’t have many friends, but if anybody tries to inquire into his sex life, he won’t say a word. he wants to keep it all to himself, and he refuses to let anyone know a thing about you or how you act when you’re intimate with him. he respects your privacy and he doesn’t want anyone else thinking about you in that way. he also knows he has something special with you- sex with you is really emotional and involved for him, and he doesn’t want to just air out his love to other people.

x: x-ray (let’s see what’s going on in those pants)

(oh myyy, am i blushing.) a bit thick, and give or take maybe six, six and a half inches hard- no, give. he’s big. it’s veiny, especially when he’s overstimulated. and it’s curved up a bit at the tip- which is a pretty shade of pink, by the way. cute, just like him.

y: yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

anytime, any place. he always wants you. he can keep it under control of course- he gets through every day just fine. but he’s always thinking about you, and even when it’s innocent, he yearns to be with you and make you feel good. his dick loves you almost as much as his heart does.

z: zzz (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

for a guy who can’t sleep, fox gets pretty tired after, but he can stay up way longer than you can. usually, you need some aftercare, and you fall asleep shortly after, and he likes to stay awake to watch you sleep because your blush lasts and your skin is still hot. he loves to admire you for a while when you’re not watching. he also gets hungry after, so he usually stays up to eat something, and then he’ll crawl back into bed and pull your sleepy body in close.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡

this actually put me through hell to write because i want him so bad it’s driving me insane. hope you enjoyed, you little freaks. gonna go think about that period kink now.

#Spotify #fox mulder #x files #spooky mulder #the x files #fox mulder x reader #fox mulder x you #soft fox mulder #fox mulder x reader fluff #fox mulder fluff #fox mulder smut #alphabet challenge

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chadillacboseman · 2 years

Text

Pairing: Homelander x F!Reader Warnings: Well, it's Homelander. He's fucked up, he's irredeemable, etc etc. We fuck monsters here. Violence, a little bit of a praise kink and some rough fucking mentioned. Homelander is a bit of a creep.

"What's your name?"

You had dropped the documents you were carrying, sending papers and folders flying in the cramped hallway. A towering figure in dark blue had stopped to help you, had knelt down beside you and swept the documents into his hands before straightening.

Homelander.

You told him your name and he repeated it with a shark-like grin. His canines were just a little too sharp, his eyes just a little too blue.

"How have I never seen you before? You should be front and center here."

You worked for Vought, a low-level secretary and a glorified "gopher" as Stillwell had so often called you.

But suddenly, you were front and center. A promotion came the day after he had stopped to help you. A new desk that overlooked the city awaited you on the 18th floor. "Supe Coordinator" they called you- the person who arranged their press appearances and made sure they were prepared for the media.

Deep, you learned, had a fear of public speaking. Black Noir, despite his silence, loved a good joke.

And Homelander, oh, Homelander. He was every bit as charismatic to you as he appeared on TV. He doted on you, always telling you how wonderful you were, how much better you were than the others at Vought.

"I think he likes you."

A coworker gestures to the Supe in blue and giggles behind her hand like a schoolgirl.

"He looks at you- like a lot."

Oh, does he look. His eyes linger on your every move, watching as your hands touch the other Supes. He thinks of breaking Deep's neck when he makes a crude joke about you.

Homelander isn't used to feeling like this- humans are below him. But he aches for you, wants to make you his. He wants to parade you around like a trophy at his side.

He envisions a perfect life with you at his side- a kid, a dog, a fucking picket fence. The whole works.

A stroke of luck for him comes at your expense.

In the parking lot, a madman rants, holding a sign that decries supes, calls them evil. He's waving a knife. He's blocking your car.

Homelander hears your shriek from the top floor.

He bursts through the window, sending a spray of glass to the pavement below. In an instant, he has the man by the throat, shoving him into a nearby car.

Homelander looks like something from a horror movie, shark teeth bared, eyes glowing red. He snaps the man's neck and drops him to the ground without flinching.

You're shaking, trembling like the helpless, powerless human you are. He scoops you into his arms, holds you tightly against his broad chest and takes flight, delivering you home despite your protests at leaving your car behind.

You don't think to ask him how he knows where you live.

After the parking lot incident, Homelander keeps you close.

"Wouldn't want you to get hurt."

"I'll protect you."

An excuse to have you by his side- to fly you home every night and bring you to work in the mornings. He's insidious like that, isolating you from others before they can warn you about him.

One night as he flies you home, you finally ask the question that has been burning in your chest like a coalfire.

"Why do you do this?"

He makes a sound, like a rumble deep in his chest, before glancing down at you. In the darkness, his features are even more striking, his blue eyes boring into yours.

"I like you."

Your stomach does somersaults that have nothing to do with the flight.

After that, you're his before you even realize it.

Headlines abound-

"#1 Supe Settles Down"

"Homelander Finds Love in a Surprising Partner"

He brings you on press tours, keeps a protective gloved hand on your thigh as they ask you questions.

"What's it like being with the most powerful man in the world?"

The hand tightens. He's smiling but it doesn't reach his eyes.

"It's amazing."

The grip loosens once more.

"Say it. Say you're mine," Homelander's hips snap against you and you cry out, head lolling back as he fucks you.

"Say it," he commands between thrusts, his hand coming to your throat in a warning.

"I'm yours!" you wheeze as his hand tightens on your windpipe.

"Good girl," he croons, "Such a good, good girl."

He releases your neck from his grasp and focuses instead on your breasts, hands wandering over them like he's committing them to memory.

There's something about your fragility, something about the way he could so easily hurt you if he felt compelled. It drives him, makes him feel like an animal.

He cums inside you over and over until you're so sore you're almost begging for reprieve. He pulls back to examine his handiwork, eyes hungry as he drips from you.

He isn't always this rough.

There are times when he finds you in your apartment, defeated and longing. Times when all he can do is lie back while you ride him, begging for your praise.

And you give it to him.

You use his real name, run your fingers through his hair while you sink onto his cock.

"John," you whisper and he's putty in your hands, whimpering and burying his face in your chest, "My good boy. My Homelander."

And he is yours- so completely and totally that it frightens him.

You're a target now- a target for not just the media, but for his enemies too.

Billy Butcher smells blood in the water the first time he sees you at the Supe's side.

"We could use this. Use her."

Butcher threatens your life and Homelander sees red. He vows to go scorched earth, to kill him and his "Boys" if they ever lay a finger on you. He's ranting, pacing the floor of your apartment, his cape billowing in his wake.

"I'll crush his fucking skull-"

"John, please," you're pleading, wringing your hands in desperation.

"I'll rip his throat out!"

"John!"

He snaps back to reality and clutches your hands in his, kneeling before you in a stunningly human gesture.

"No one will ever hurt you," he promises, steely blue eyes never wavering from yours, "Ever."

You believe him.

#homelander x reader #ns/fw #homelander #the boys fic #this is all over the place sorry lol

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pedropascallme · 4 months

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I adore ur professor Haas series I was wondering if you could do one where he has a lot of work to do so he makes u cockwarm, but eventually gives into ur pleads 🙈🙈🙈🙈 thank you!!!!

Fatal Distraction

Pairing: professor!Damien x f!Reader

Summary: "Wearing an old Pokémon shirt you had found in his dresser, you found your way to his office and felt yourself blush at the sight; it almost made you laugh out loud, the fact that, even after he had ravished you the way he did time and time again, there was still something about the way his jaw tensed, how his hair fell over his eyes in a way that hid the top half of his glasses, the motion of his eyes as they scanned the papers he read, that made you go red with a sort of schoolgirl embarrassment. Part of you seemed to still be worried you’d get caught staring at your hot professor."

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI) implied age gap (Damien is his actual current age, reader is 20-22), student/teacher relationship, dom/sub dynamics, p in v sex, praise, dirty talk, very mild degradation (use of the word slut), spanking, thigh man Damien makes a brief appearance again, If I missed anything please let me know!

AN: Guys you know how I love soft!dom Damien but this is...this might be full on dom Damien...and I apologize for nothing!

Maybe there was a scientific word for it, a phrase that explained why you derived so much pleasure from watching him squirm at the way you teased him before he gave in and took control. Schadenfreude didn’t begin to cover it, but you knew that’s what he would say if you told him about the inner workings of your mind.

To be fair, he had to put that German degree to use somehow.

You could hear Damien in his office from down the hall, papers flitting, followed by an audible sigh; giving assignments wasn’t fun, per se, but at least he knew his students would be able to learn something from them—even if they happened to cheat somehow, trying to circumvent the required readings or zoning out while he lectured new concepts in class, they still had to figure out a way to make it seem like they knew what they were talking about. But grading had to be the epitome of tedium. He’d figured that, at this point in his career, he would’ve figured out a way to make the time pass faster, find a method that made it less drawn out.

That still hadn’t happened, and he’d started to come to terms with the fact that it likely never would.

Your weekend liaisons at the home of your professor had become more frequent; your toothbrush sat next to his in the bathroom, you kept your skincare products stacked neatly in the corner of the bedroom you had laid claim to, and you had an assigned side of the bed (left, because it was closer to the phone charger). It didn’t bother you that he had to get up early to finish grading most days, given that you had him all to yourself for the rest of the day (and for most of the night,) but today you felt…devious.

It wasn’t your fault that you still had an ache between your legs; sure, part of it was enduring soreness from the previous night, a memory of the way he had caged you beneath him and coaxed orgasm after orgasm from you while his hips snapped desperately against you—but mostly it was simply because you were in his presence, surrounded by the scent of his body wash, and the smell of old books that seemed to linger in the air of the apartment, mingling to create something so perfectly Damien.

It was just him, that’s what did it for you. Him.

Wearing an old Pokémon shirt you had found in his dresser, you found your way to his office and felt yourself blush at the sight; it almost made you laugh out loud, the fact that, even after he had ravished you the way he did time and time again, there was still something about the way his jaw tensed, how his hair fell over his face to hide the top half of his glasses, the motion of his eyes as they scanned the papers he read, that made you go red with a sort of schoolgirl embarrassment. Part of you seemed to still be worried you’d get caught staring at your hot professor.

“Busy?” You came up behind him, dropping a hand over his chest and stooping down to where he sat to place soft kisses on his neck. You always appreciated when he wore his white undershirts around the house; his skin exposed to you, warm and welcoming, and the silhouette they created was magnificent.

“Yeah,” it came out a near-whine as he leaned back into you, raising his head to offer you more access to the flesh you were sucking on and creating the opportunity for you to trace a path down his collar bones with the hand not stabilizing you on his chest. “I feel like it's all just blurring together, though. I need to stop grading on minimal sleep.”

“Is this you kicking me out?” You quipped, and you felt one of his hands come up to root itself in your hair.

“Never,” he pulled you up for a brief kiss before he let out another sigh. “I’m sorry I’m so busy all the time—I know you say you don’t care, but—”

“I don’t care.” You cut him off, placing a kiss just under his ear, circling his pulse-point with your lips.

“I know! But…I don’t want you to get bored—or think I’m boring, or, or think that this is me pulling back, or something…”

Now you did laugh, letting the sound catch in his skin where your head rested. “You’re working yourself up, Professor,” you felt him breathe deep at the use of the title, “I know how interested you are in me.” You moved from your spot behind him, carefully placing yourself in front of him before straddling his lap, “And I’m just as interested in you. Promise.” You grabbed his hand, lowering it to your naked core and letting his fingers ghost the slick that still coated your lower half from your previous romp. You bent yourself forward to kiss his pulse point again, “I don’t think you’re boring in the slightest.”

Damien’s head fell back against the chair he sat on, trying desperately to keep his composure. “God, don’t do this to me now, baby,” his fingers moved to trace circles on your clit, and you couldn’t tell which experience was best—the way his stiffening, clothed cock felt under your weight, or the way his hands felt on your cunt, or the way he was so quickly falling victim to your teasing, practically squirming in his seat and incapable of tearing his gaze from you. “Never gonna finish grading…”

“I can go if you want,” you taunted, beginning to stand before his hands found your waist and pulled you back down to him, “I mean, if you aren’t interested…”

“You’re an incredibly persuasive distraction.” His jaw clenched and you knew he could feel how wet you were now, even through his sweatpants.

“I’ll go, since you want me to stop,” you tilted your head down at him, “let you finish all that work you have to do. I can take care of myself, you know.”

He inhaled sharply, and you watched his face turn from playful to stern; eyebrows creasing, and only a faint smirk on his lips. “You’re going to let me finish my work,” he wrapped an arm around your waist, “but you’re not going anywhere.”

You didn’t anticipate his next move, too focused on how handsome he looked when the lust finally overtook his eyes; he worked quickly to pull his sweatpants down just enough to release his cock, then hoisted you higher, before letting you sink down onto him. He gritted his teeth when he felt himself against your entrance, the pleasure heightened by your startled moans of approval before you took him fully. He closed his eyes so as not to give away the intense satisfaction you were providing him—he couldn’t just reward you for purposely trying to sidetrack him from work that had a deadline.

You whimpered, arms wrapped around his neck, wiggling your hips in an attempt to get him to do something that would give you some relief, and let you enjoy how full he made you feel.

“Don’t move—look at me, ok?—don’t move.” He caressed your cheek and a confusing mixture of disappointment and lust settled into your stomach: the perfect recipe for desire. “You wanna distract me so bad? I’m using you to the fullest extent, then.” His voice was barely above a whisper, his words coming out thoughtful and calm, and you felt yourself clench around him; you were so desperate, fueled by his dominance. “You’re gonna be good for me, right?” He raised an eyebrow and you nodded fervently.

“Yeah—yes, sir, I’ll be good. I’ll be so good for you.” You found solace in the crook of his neck, trying not to squirm despite the way your body screamed at you to move.

“My good girl.” He squeezed your thigh, rubbing circles on the flesh with his palm and kneading it occasionally. He picked up his grading where he left off.

You thought maybe you could get through this. You had brought it on yourself, in all fairness, and you did love the way he took control, but the more animalistic part of your brain was hungry, yearning for him to take control in a more depraved manner—the kind that made you see stars and scream his name into the bedsheets.

He leaned forward to pick something up from his desk, and your patience completely dissipated when you felt the muscles of his stomach tense against you and the tip of his cock nestle deeper into your dripping hole, brushing a spot inside of you that he just had to know would make you abandon your promise to be good.

You let out a shrill whine, your hands finding his shoulder blades and pulling him into you. “Please,” you pushed your face deeper into the skin of his neck, “Please, I need it.”

“Need what?” He settled properly back into his seat again, still focused on the assignment he had in his hand.

“I need it—you. Please? Fuck me, it hurts, I need you.” You begged, trying to squeeze your thighs around his waist in an attempt to supply yourself some friction.

“Thought you liked when it hurt?” Was all he said, deadpan, brushing off your appeals—though his cock throbbed at the way you clenched around him, and he’d be lying if he said he cared about the paper he was trying to grade.

His response only drew more whimpers; pleading moans fell from your lips as you tried to hold onto the shred of hope that if you remained good, stayed still, he would fuck you like you needed to be fucked. But that hope was enveloped quickly by the feeling of his hand moving up your thigh and over the curve of your ass, kneading the flesh gently before spanking you once.

“You think maybe you should apologize for distracting me?” He growled, “Apologize for acting so needy after you promised to be a good girl?” He spanked you again, harder this time, and you couldn’t help the way your hips lurched forward, or the way your breath caught in your throat when you cried out.

Damien straightened in his chair, looking up at you, like he was worshipping at the shrine of your body. When you looked down at him, he reached his hand up to brush his thumb over the upper part of your cheek, wiping the exasperated tears that had fallen from your eyes.

“Think you should apologize for acting like a slut?” Again, his words came out so calm, so collected. Maybe that's what did it, the way he managed to stay domineering with such ease, or it could’ve been the fact that he had never called you that before, despite his moaned assent when you referred to yourself that way when he fucked you nice and rough. It might have just been the fact that he was presenting you with such a perfect window of opportunity, with his gaze locked in yours the way it was, after nearly an hour of wishing and waiting.

Whatever it was, your restraint had officially snapped, and you practically dove into him, finding his mouth with your own and pulling him into a messy kiss; drool threatened to spill over your lower lip, and your top teeth occasionally met his, but neither of you cared—you’d waited long enough.

“I’m sorry,” you managed to breathe between heated kisses, “I’m sorry for being a slut—I’m sorry, I won’t distract you again, sir, I’m sorry—” Before he cut you off with another kiss, his fingers weaving through your hair as he pulled your face as close as he could. His other arm wrapped around your waist, and he began to push his hips up into you with zero hesitation. You gasped against his mouth, giving him the perfect opportunity to let his tongue dip between your lips and lick into you.

“You’re so,” he kissed you again, “fucking,” then on your neck, “perfect,” and on your collar, bottom lip just barely grazing the old shirt you still had on. “Perfect girl—god, that’s it.” He stuttered when you bounced back onto him, finding a rhythm with each other and getting rid of the pent up need that coursed through the both of you. He reached a hand under your shirt and squeezed your breast, fingers circling your nipple before he rolled it in his thumb and index finger, quick to notice the way you pushed your chest into him and cried out for more, more, more.

He was unrelenting; even in a position where you had so much control, hands planted on his chest and body above him, he managed to flip the script and put you in your place, dominating you to the point where you were malleable and helpless.

“Feels so good, I—Damien!” You threw your head back at the feeling of his cock pushing your limits, the stretch of your cunt and the burn of your thighs rivaled by the way his deep thrusts pushed the head of his cock against your cervix.

“Yeah? Like that, baby?” He lifted you slightly, giving him more space to move his hips at the rough pace he had set and admire the way you bounced up and down. “Still hurting?” He goaded you, and all you could do was moan at his words and the way his hips snapped into you, too close to the edge to focus on anything but showing him how good he made you feel.

"If you wanna act like a slut, I'll treat you like one," he continued, obsessed with how your eyes rolled back in thrill at the degradation. "That's what you want, right? Just wanted to get fucked."

You fell forward against him. Quiet moans and whispered yeah, like thats and please, it feels so goods escaped up from your throat while he worked you to completion. Damien removed his hand from under your shirt, finding your clit and massaging shapes against it in time with his thrusts, unable to decide which view he liked more: the one where he got to watch you tremble against him, face flushed and lost in pleasure scrunched against him and occasionally meeting his gaze to plant a frenzied kiss wherever you could reach; or the one where he could see the way your cunt swallowed him, squeezing his shaft and coating him in your wet with every roll of his hips, his own fingers massaging your clit.

“Gonna—I’m—” you choked on your words, but he knew what you were saying, the feeling of the familiar flutter of your walls around his length telling him you were close.

“You can cum,” he assured, “show me how pretty you look when you cum for me, baby.” He pushed you down onto him, dragging your hips over his with his hands, letting you feel him as deep as you could, resuming his ministrations on your clit after you began to move on your own accord.

You came hard, all but collapsing onto him, practically boneless and unable to feel anything but pleasure, and affection for the man who had provided it.

Damien wasn’t far behind, his movements relaxing slightly. “Where do you want me, baby?” One arm curled around you, the other holding the back of your neck in an affectionate vice grip.

“Inside.” You whispered, and with a growl and a string of curses he quickly obliged, needing only the sound of your fucked-out voice in his ear to bring him to his high.

You stayed wrapped up together, sticky and sweaty, neither of you too eager to move, content to stay connected for as long as you could.

Damien wrapped you in a tight hug, mouth dropping to your ear to whisper to you. “You’re so perfect,” he cooed, “smart and beautiful and perfect. You know that?”

You raised your head from its resting place on his shoulder and greeted him with a sleepy grin, “I know." You toyed with the hair on the nape of his neck before pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, straightening them for him, “So are you.” You returned to his shoulder, squishing your cheek against him and leaving small kisses on his neck. “So perfect.” You whispered.

“I hope you know not to...y'know, what I say when we fuck, if I'm being...mean, or if I say something you don't like, or—" He blinked rapidly as he tried to find the right words, anxious that you would take his dirty talk to heart, that you would take it personally in all the wrong ways. "I think the world of you."

You giggled, and the sound made his shoulders relax.

“I know, Damien,” and you did know, without him having to explain his entire train of thought.

You knew how he felt about you. You knew because you felt the same way.

“Good.” He conceded, placing a kiss on your shoulder.

“I’m sorry for distracting you. I know you’re busy.”

“Don’t be sorry. You make grading papers a lot less…monotonous.” He kissed your shoulder again. “I’m always happy to be distracted by you.”

“Good,” you echoed his earlier sentiment, “I’m always happy to distract you.”

"You wanna come distract me in the shower?" He squeezed your thigh.

"Yeah. I do."

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